Chapter 7 – Decaying Orbit #3
We trailed down to the dining room, and he slipped into the kitchen, tapping the wall panel to bathe the room in the same familiar pink light.
I closed the door firmly behind us, not entirely sure where we were going next.
Was this when we'd fall together? Or would this just be another twist in the cord bringing us closer?
I sat down on the floor again, in the same spot as last time, and listened as Araxis moved about in the kitchen. "Sorry I was stupid earlier," I blurted. Better to get it out than try and find a more articulate way to say it.
The sound of movement from the kitchen stopped.
I could practically hear Araxis blinking in surprise; his eyelids always did this adorable flutter when he was put off-balance by something I said or did.
"You were not stupid," he said eventually, the sounds picking up.
Water sloshed into the teapot; cups clinked on to the tray; and then he stepped around the corner, settling the tray on the ground in front of us.
This time, he sat close, his arm brushing mine.
My skin buzzed with heat where our bodies met.
"I was," I said. "What I should have said is that of course it's not bad that you haven't had sex.
It doesn't change anything for me. In fact, maybe I feel a little better now about the fact that you turned me down back in the den.
And here I was, thinking I'd come across as seemed overeager by giving you a discount.
" I said it to lighten the tone, but it rang false in the quiet of the dining room this late at night, with everything illuminated by dim light and carved from shadow.
Araxis was still and silent next to me, and when I looked at him, his face was tight. Uncomfortable.
I huffed, scrubbing a hand across my face. "Sorry again." Fuck, I was an idiot. "Sometimes I make jokes when I'm trying to avoid talking about feelings. Which is most of the time? I'm not very good at apologies, not like you are. I'm not kind like you are."
Next to me, Araxis fluted out a breath, shooting me a pointed look. "You are very kind," he said, firm. "Do not think I have not noticed how you indulge the children."
Oh. I mean, of course he knew. They probably all knew how much time Talvi and Adrathi spent with me.
It was a small ship after all. Heat crept up my neck, and I shrugged while Araxis leaned forward to pour the tea.
The cup he pressed into my hands was warm, and holding it helped me unlock some of the muscles I'd subconsciously been tightening.
"But I'm not like you," I insisted. I was trying to compliment him.
I'd suspected, back on the shuttle, that he didn't get compliments very often; I was quite certain that was true now that I knew him better.
He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, the fate of his entire creche, and he considered that a foundational part of who he was.
The protector, the guardian, the caretaker.
It wasn't the kind of thing I thought another abaya would thank him for.
It was too innate, too expected. It just was.
So I tried again. "I like talking to you," I said, thumb running along the pattern cut into the cup, feeling its rough edges.
"You really listen. It's like… I don't know.
Like earlier today, when you asked me if I'd ever fucked someone because I really wanted to –" Next to me, he flushed like I knew he would, but I continued anyway, "And you said you know how important it is to me to have autonomy…
A lot of people see Sashen the dancer. I work hard on that, on being what people expect and what they want.
But it feels like you actually see me, the person.
And that's – there aren't many people like that, Araxis.
I like that you're not just a leader; you also listen, and you're kind and thoughtful and generous. Your creche is lucky to have you."
Next to me, Araxis was quiet for a long time.
When I looked at him out of the side of my eye, I could see his stare flickering over the shadows across the room while his mind traced its way through a labyrinth I couldn't begin to comprehend.
After a long moment, during which I sipped on my tea and let myself sink deeper into the quiet space of the room, comfortable as a warm bed, he said, "Do you really think that?
That they are lucky to have me, because of how I am? "
Something about the way he said it made my attention sharpen, there in the dark of the night while the ship was quiet and empty around us. "Of course I do," I said carefully. What did he mean, how he was?
He exhaled, and I watched as his tongue flicked out to lick his bottom lip before he worked the skin with his teeth. Nervous. "I have told you that not all abaya agree with the way the Concord describes gender. Or ascribes gender, if I am being precise."
"Yeah, you said that the Concord thinks it's bad to be skoshas, to be outside of the system.
But that Creche Thiel never thought that.
" I leaned my weight against him, just a little; if I'd done that the last time we'd met here for tea, he would have startled.
But a lot could change in a week. After all the hours we'd spent in the training ring together, all the times we'd touched, I could see the weight of my body against his was familiar now, and maybe comforting.
He shifted, leaning into the touch, although his face was still pointed toward the distant wall.
His profile was outlined in pink light, and he was beautiful, chin pointed upwards, poised.
His voice, though, lacked the same composure, rough around the edges and a little unsteady.
"Some abaya feel that they may have… more than one gender.
That they might be sinnenthi and entinn – and that this would not make them skoshas, although that is not bad either. "
The way he said it, a bit breathy, as if he was forcing the words out through sheer willpower while they fought him all the way, startled me in a moment of recognition.
I knew that feeling. I remembered the tears as I'd whispered to my age group teacher how I felt about my best friend; how desperate I was to say it, and how afraid.
Araxis was making a confession, and the colour had drained from his face so that he was washed out, the faint gleaming pattern in his cheeks muted as he stared into the dark, wide-eyed.
"I don't think there's anything wrong with that," I said quietly. I moved my leg so that our thighs were touching; I tipped my knee against his.
"Neither do I," Araxis insisted, hurried.
I saw his throat work as he swallowed. "But it is not understood to be…
possible, even in a creche like ours. You cannot be two things at once.
" The way he said it, the words sharp at the edges, pained and tight, made it sound like he was repeating something he'd been told.
Sinnenthi and entinn, I thought. A leader and an empath. Caretaker and caregiver.
"You said before that you'd listen when I told you who I was and you'd believe me," I said, reaching on impulse for him.
I touched his knee, just barely. He didn't react, except to dip his chin down so that he could look at where my hand rested on his body.
"I'll believe you when you tell me too," I murmured, soft.
My thumb moved just barely against the soft fabric of his pants.
A sound caught in his throat, a low subvocalization of distress, maybe. "Then… I am sinnenthi, but also entinn. It is not something I can speak about. It is… If others learned of how I feel…"
And what did I care about alien gender? How could it possibly matter to me?
But it felt like he'd seen me working to tear the stones down from the walls I'd built around myself, my fingers bloodied with the effort, and he had decided to offer up the most aching and vulnerable part of who he was in exchange.
And in that moment, I didn't want to press him against the wall or kiss him until he begged me for more.
I just wanted to hold him and keep him safe, to protect that soft confession from the rest of the universe.
"Thank you for telling me," I said. I let the weight of my hand rest more firmly on his knee, squeezing. "And for the record, even if other people don't understand, I do. There's nothing wrong with you; you're not wrong about who you are. And I think you're perfect."
He huffed, a faint and short trill humming from his throat, almost like a laugh of disbelief.
"All that, and you tipped well," I added, allowing my mouth to sharpen in a grin.
Araxis's eyes took on a sly slant as he looked at me. "Hm, yes, you do make jokes as a way to undercut genuine emotion."
I flushed, pulling my hand back from his knee to scrub it through my hair.
"It's all well and good to be sinnenthi and entinn, until you start to perceive all of my flaws, you know," I joked.
"If you keep making astute observations, I might actually have to do some self-reflection.
Oh – shit. I'm doing it again, aren't I? "
"Yes," Araxis said next to me, and when I looked back at him, he was smiling as he watched me in the softest way. As if he really did like being here with me, as if I was something precious and this time together meant something.
It definitely meant something to me too.
What a gift, to have this – to have his trust and his confidence – before I stepped into that arena.
And I wanted him to know that he could trust me, that I knew what it cost to share something so fragile and that I would honour his faith in me.
"I know you know that I also did trade in gossip back in the den, and I did offer to blackmail some Concord members for you.
But I'd never tell anyone about this, Araxis.
I know what it's like to have… who you are used against you like a cudgel, and I would never do that to anyone.
And I would especially never, ever do it to you. "
Something complicated flickered across his features, too quick for me to parse out.
"I know that, Sashen. It is why I felt that I could tell you.
" He stretched and picked up the teapot, pouring us each another cup; the floral scent curled upwards in the air.
"Much is changing in Xitera, but… You understand that our petition would be denied if they knew I am as I am.
We would be barred entirely, and while I am not skoshas – I am not, although it is not bad – they would hear what I have told you and think me such. But I am sinnenthi, I am not skoshas –"
"You're sinnenthi and entinn, I know." He was quick to gloss over that other part of him, and I wanted to remind him that I saw him, all of him, and that all of him was good.
So I reached for him again, taking one hand in mine and squeezing his cold fingers.
"You've told me, and I believe you. They might not understand, but I do. "
Next to me, Araxis was quiet, but his hand tremored, just slightly, and when I studied him, I imagined I could see his pulse jittering in his throat. "You must be careful not to tell anyone, Sashen."
"Hey, I have you," I said, determined. And I did: of course I wouldn't tell anyone.
I wouldn't even dream of it. I'd carry his secret with me until the end, and I would carry it with tenderness.
I would tuck it somewhere safe beneath my breastbone and I would know that I understood Araxis of Creche Thiel in a way no one else did. I saw him, like he saw me.
We sat there for awhile longer. I thought about kissing him, but somehow it felt…
right to sit there with him instead, as if nothing we could do with our bodies would come close to the intimacy of that moment.
There in the dim pink light, we spoke in tones so hushed it was like we knew that the moment we shared was fragile and precious.
That night, we were two disparate pieces that, despite impossible odds, somehow still fit together perfectly.
The person I was in that moment, the person he was, were like atoms moving in synchronicity across vast cosmic distances.
It felt like one last gift from the universe, to have that soft, perfect moment with him, to know that I could feel that way, that I could be someone who mattered to someone else, that I had within me gentleness, tenderness, and kindness.
There were fathoms to myself that I hadn't ever let myself explore, and with Araxis they were all there, potentiality made real.
What makes this so difficult is not knowing how much of it was real.
Was any of it? And I don't know what's worse – thinking that it was all a fabrication, that it was all a plan, that I was manipulated in each moment, or thinking that it was real, and he did this to me anyway.
That he looked at me and trusted me, that he watched me crack my chest open and present him my heart, still beating in my hands, that he placed his greatest secret inside of me to keep safe, and it didn't change anything at all.