16. Bambi
BAMBI
Inhaling deeply, the first thing that registers is the delicate scent of flowers, and I wake up with a smile. As I open my eyes to greet the day, I marvel at how vastly different my life is, especially compared to when I was growing up.
Getting up in the morning is no longer a fight for survival the moment my feet hit the floor, and I can finally enjoy the little things. Like hurkle-durkling in bed instead of having to launch myself into a never-ending list of household chores, all while avoiding my father like the plague.
Like going on my very first date. It doesn’t make a damn difference to me that it was with an alien from another world, because he was a perfect gentleman the entire time, and treated me with more respect than any human man ever did.
Like kissing someone for the very first time. Heat fills my face, and I know if I were to look in a mirror, I would be beet red. I can’t believe I was bold enough to do something like that, and I’m still not sure what came over me.
Last night was nothing short of wonderful, excluding the small mishap between supper and dessert. One date isn’t going to erase a lifetime of misery, but his reaction to my panic attack gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, this thing between us can work.
Bikar waited for me to finish his share of ice cream before escorting me to another room, which he calls the holodeck, for a movie night.
He told me to pick whatever film I wanted, so I blurted out the name of one I’ve always wanted to watch.
Bikar didn’t bat an eye at my selection and started The Princess Bride before settling on the opposite end of a couch that had been set up in front of the viewing screen.
I was extremely nervous at first, thinking that he was going to try to make a move of some sort, but Bikar didn’t act any differently there than he did at supper.
There was plenty of space between our bodies that he didn’t once try to cross.
He even seemed to enjoy the movie, and chuckled several times at the characters’ antics.
Eventually, the movie ended, and he begrudgingly walked me back to my room.
It was extremely flattering—and rather adorable—that he was so bummed about our date ending.
It made me feel like a desirable woman for the first time in my life, and I know I could quickly get used to being treated that way.
Just as Bikar turned to leave me for the evening, I shocked both of us by grabbing one of his huge hands, pulling him towards me, raising on my tiptoes, and kissing him square on the lips with a whispered: “Thank you.”
Before he could say anything—potentially embarrassing me or ruining the moment in typical Bikar fashion—I darted inside my room and shut the door in his face.
Tossing the covers back with a flourish, I relish being able to get out of bed without having to use a step stool and pad to the bathroom so I can alleviate my screaming bladder.
I know without looking in a mirror that a stupid smile is plastered across my face.
It’s still hard for me to rationalize how Bikar treated me last night with the selfish, self-centered male that betrayed his brother.
The contrast is startling, and anxiety bubbles up in my chest.
How do I know which version of him is the real Bikar?
Then there’s the fact that Bikar absorbed the entire internet into his brain. Part of me is dying to ask him how the hell he managed such a thing, while the other is scared of the answers I might get.
Maybe I’ll get to do that today.
He did mention last night that he had multiple things planned for us to do while we’re heading to Viri 9.
I’m not exactly sure how long it’s going to take us to get there, which is something else to add to my growing list of questions.
Shucking off my pajamas, I hop on the toilet for a quick pit-stop before taking a shower.
After years of being forced to ration water—to the point I wasn’t allowed to clean myself more than once or twice a week—being able to shower whenever I want is nothing short of miraculous.
Washing and conditioning my hair used to take forever because it’s so thick, but the advanced technology here makes the task a breeze.
What once took half an hour in a bucket only takes me about five minutes.
Hurrying through that part, I rapidly wash my body, doing my best to ignore the litany of scars decorating my skin.
Then I step out of the stall, hitting the button for the dryer as I go.
Avoiding my reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall, I wait for the warm current of air to cease.
A chime sounds, the bathroom quieting as the dryer shuts off.
Picking up my pajamas, I toss them into the refresher and head to the closet to pick out my clothes for the day.
Heather went a little wild with the CIP, and now I have more clothes than I know what to do with.
My closet has more items in it now than it’s had cumulatively in my entire life.
Heather also refused to let me have plain undies, and said I would thank her later—the drawer is full of satin, lace, and everything in between.
Pulling a pale green matching set out of the drawer, I slip into them and sigh at how nice they feel against my skin.
Snagging a pair of blue jeans, a gray long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of socks, I finish getting dressed.
Frowning, I realize my red cowboy boots are missing.
Moving out of the closet, I look around my room and finally see one sticking out from under my couch.
How the hell did they get over there?
Rolling my eyes at myself, I retrieve them and tug them on, staring at the vivid, blooming blossoms sitting in the middle of my coffee table.
Bikar told me they weren’t technically real flowers, so they wouldn’t die and decay.
The mechanics of that are out of my depth, but I understand the gist of what he told me.
Bikar going through the trouble of making me flowers that will essentially last forever is pretty damn impressive.
Locating a container to put them in took a while last night, but I finally found something usable.
I’m glad I did. They liven up my living space and make the room feel more personal, instead of a borrowed space.
Growling from my midsection startles me, and I giggle. “Hopefully, I haven’t missed breakfast.”
Ambling to the door, I tap the pad next to it. Sliding open with a hushed whoosh, I look down to make sure my sleeves fully cover my arms, and then run smack dab into Bikar’s hard body.