Chapter 2 – Goodbye Gorelion #4
I stopped. In front of me stood my pretty abayan admirer, his head tilted and his hands folded carefully behind his back. Here in the light of the concourse, I could admire just how striking the contrast was between those dark eyes and the bone-white perfection of his skin.
The smile that curled my lips was all real this time.
Abaya did smile, so at least I didn't need to worry about looking like a menace, because I didn't think I'd be able to wipe this one off my face.
"It's you," I said, and that silver flush I'd spied last night immediately spread across his cheeks. Cute.
I would have thought that the lack of eyebrows would make his face less expressive, but he felt easy to read: I saw his stare flick over me and the pinch of worry at the edges of his eyes soften.
"I had a message this morning from Alet Trident," he said, upright and square as he looked over me; perfectly pressed and put together.
"She said you are looking for passage to the Thenat cluster? "
Bless Alet Trident and both of her nosy marn hearts; bless this ridiculous abaya who was blushing, seemingly unable to look me fully in the eye.
See, this was the kind of thing you missed out on if you threw yourself out of an airlock preemptively.
"I am," I said, fighting against the world's biggest, dumbest grin; that might too much for any species.
Besides, we hadn't even talked cost, and I had all of 87 credits to my name.
"I'm on a break from the den. A work opportunity came up and…
" I trailed off, not sure what to say next.
Did I ask him if he was headed that way and willing to take on a passenger?
Did I wait for him to offer? Did I hammer out the terms and conditions (positions, frequency, etc.)?
I was usually good at this, talking to clients, except the last day had left me off-kilter, so instead I found myself staring at the lovely pale column of his neck, and noticing the way his charcoal gray flight suit with its crisp, military angles made him look almost like a toy soldier.
Besides, he wasn't a client, and apparently I wasn't a dancer, and the concourse definitely wasn't the den.
Who even was I off of the stage and away from the back rooms? Without my price lists and client profiles and the living pulse of light and music?
Thankfully, Araxis of Creche Thiel seemed to take my awkward silence in stride. "I am leaving shortly to meet up with my creche's ship. We're due to arrive in Thenat in twelve days, give or take. You are welcome on board if you require passage."
I fought against the urge to bray out a victorious laugh. "How much?"
The thoughtful narrowing of his eyes reappeared. "How much?" he repeated.
Admittedly, my Standard wasn't as crystal clear as his, but I knew for a fact my accent was considered good if a bit rural – I blame that on my main tutor being a brin colleague who'd grown up in a colony where their primary export was basically space turnips.
"How much do you want for a seat?"
The abaya – Araxis, I reminded myself – looked back at me, his hands still neatly tucked in the small of his back, his posture immaculate.
He studied me for a moment, then one corner of his mouth – sweet, with perfectly plush gray lips that hid what I knew were slightly sharp teeth – tugged up. "I understand that you… teach?"
"Private lessons," I supplied, some part of my brain kicking into autopilot while I tried to follow the thread.
"It's an intimate thing, working with a blade.
The den has a training suite just for the purpose.
" Distantly, another part of my brain reminded me that I didn't work there any longer, but what else could I say?
Something about what I'd said made Araxis flush even more, the silver swirling with the faintest hint of pink, like dawn light over a tundra, and he added, hastily and breathily, "I do mean actual swords.
While I am – I am certain you are skilled in all areas, it is the sword I am keen to study.
Like that." He reached out and touched the hilt of one sword, just over my shoulder.
His hand was cool as it brushed the edge of my jaw.
Araxis flinched and drew back.
"Sure," I said, grin widening. Oh, he was cute.
Shy – I liked shy. "Whatever you want." And because I knew more than to push too hard, I rocked back a bit on my heels and shifted my pack on my shoulder.
"So just to be clear, you're giving me a ride to the Thenat cluster and all you're after is some sword-dancing lessons? "
It was almost a little disappointing. Then again, Khrelen had said abaya were all tied up, and this one had barely been able to say three words to me after a week of watching me dance in the den.
The sunrise pink roiled across his cheeks, and I swear I heard a faint rustling, like wind through a field of wheat.
"Yes, just so… Sashen." He dipped his head, my name sweet on his purple tongue, then shifted and tucked both hands behind his back again.
With a tilt of his head, he gestured toward the nearby berth.
"I'm docked down here. Was there anything else you needed to gather before departure?
I had intended to leave before the winds shift as my meetings have now concluded.
It is why Alet Trident suggested I find you. "
"I'm good," I said, and I followed the dark outline of Araxis's shoulders as we headed down the berth and to a small silver shuttle that would take us to a ship and then to Thenat beyond.
I was probably unreasonably pleased about the whole situation, particularly given the likelihood of my imminent death by a) arena or b) airlock (self-imposed) – but if I had only weeks to live, at least I had a shy abaya for company who seemed awfully flustered by the thought of my sword.
There were worse ways to go.