Chapter 5 Em
Em
Smiling at how Idris’ mind works, I turn to face him, and I don’t plan to move for a full minute. I allow myself to watch him before the alarm rings.
Idris is still asleep beside me. His beautiful face is fully at ease. His hand rests on my waist.
There’s a small hitch in his breathing when the digital alarm vibrates on my nightstand, but it’s too faint to wake him. I reach over and tap the button to snooze it.
He prefers sleeping in. I don’t. He prefers joining me in the shower, ever since we began sharing a bed. I’m sure the snoozed alarm will wake him then.
I sit up, and as I leave my bed, I spot the roses he brought in. They brighten the space. Their scent sits lightly in the air. Breathing in roses and Idris, I walk to the washroom.
A while later, the alarm chimes again. Idris stirs this time, groaning.
I smile, stepping into the shower and turning the knob to the optimal temperature. Not too cold for me, but not too hot for Idris. I hear him moving, his feet padding across the floor, closer to me. Soon, the shower door slides open.
“Morning,” he mumbles.
I nod, washing my hair with my back turned to him. His arms wrap around my waist from behind. He nuzzles into my hair.
“Let me wash you this morning, Em.” His hands slide up my ribs. His touch catalogues as much as it indulges. “Will you let me, please?”
“Idris…”
I turn to face him. His eyes, still heavy with sleep, sharpen with attention.
The water drenches us in perfect temperature. But it’s Idris who makes heat rise through me.
I should step back. But I don’t. Instead, I lift my chin a fraction. His gaze drops to my mouth, then his hands grip onto my waist, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us.
“This is unfair, Em.”
“On what grounds?”
“You’re in kissing range,” he murmurs, brushing his mouth along my jaw, “but you won’t kiss me.”
“We might be late to the morning meeting,” I say, yet I don’t move.
“One kiss, then I’ll wash you fast and efficiently, Em.”
It’s as if he’s speaking my language. Before I can argue, his lips land on mine. My knees weaken in an instant as his fingers trace my spine.
After stealing the breath from my lungs, he proves unexpectedly efficient in washing me. His hands move with purpose, though he lingers in places that pull soft sounds from my lips before I can suppress them.
When we finish and step out, I dress quickly. Idris buttons his shirt while watching me. Once we’re presentable, we leave my quarters and walk toward where we’d find Darius.
We enter the captain’s cabin to find him there, bent over metal parts spread across the table. He studies them methodically, fingers tracing grooves. His brows pull together when he notices us.
Darius’ displeasure in being interrupted is subtle. A mere tightening of his mouth.
He sets the piece down in a precise line with the others and straightens. “Good morning,” he says, more out of courtesy than sentiment.
Idris returns the greeting warmly with his signature smile.
Darius starts his report, flipping through a short stack of papers. “At the current speed, we’ll arrive at the designated coordinates in about a week. But the ship’s in lawless international waters.” His gaze moves toward me. “That should align with your goal.”
I nod. “It does.”
“All systems are within predicted parameters.” His tone is clipped. “That’s all for now.”
He lowers himself back over the table and resumes adjusting the metal pieces, the clink of them marking the end of the meeting.
Idris takes hold of my elbow. Our cue to exit before Darius has to dismiss us verbally. The door slides shut behind us.
“He seems anxious, doesn’t he?” Idris murmurs.
“There was no indication of that just now,” I say. “Objectively, there’s no reason for concern.”
Idris huffs a light laugh. “You say it like it’s obvious. But it helps.” His shoulders lower. “Thanks, Em.”
We walk the short distance to the staff’s office where there’s fresh coffee. Idris reaches for two mugs. He pours mine first, filling my mug, and adding a precise splash of cream. He hands it to me without looking at the cup, only at my face.
When I take it, he leans forward and places a quick kiss on my cheek.
“You always ground me, Em,” he says. “Especially when I’m overthinking.”
“That’s your cognitive pattern,” I reply. “I simply provide counterbalance.”
His smile pulls down. “How romantic…”
I scoff at his sarcastic remark.
He holds his own coffee, wafting the sugary scent my way. “I’m going to check on the staff.” He takes a sip and smiles wide. “First-day nerves can be contagious.”
I nod. “I’ll go to the MedBay. The subjects should be awake soon.”
“Right.” He steals another kiss, directly from my lips this time. “Today will go great, Em.”
He steps away, heading toward the central corridor.
I sip my coffee, watching him go. Warmth spreads across my face. I normally file feelings away, but not this one. This feeling expanding in me is gratitude toward Idris. I’ll have to tell him he does the same to me. He knows my cognitive patterns—my bad habits—and provides a counterbalance.
With one last sip, I turn toward the MedBay, ready to begin my work.
***
It’s eight o’clock exactly when I step through the MedBay doors. The room’s been calibrated and prepared perfectly.
The deep corner wall of the MedBay is a mirror to security feeds. I use the layered screens to monitor the subjects when I need to. In the gymnasium, I find the two I expected to be up earlier than the rest.
Stan sits on a weight bench with a towel around his neck, evidence of recent exertion still visible on his damp skin. His posture is open and directed toward the person standing across from him. Nil stands near the water station. His attention stays on Stan rather than the room.
I watch their movements as they leave the gym, pacing together toward the MedBay.
They walk in rhythm well. And I find myself looking for longer than necessary, taking in the way a grainy screen can capture their appealing appearances.
I also consider their connection. Their relationship is a natural alignment that’s evolved over time, far longer than one night in shared quarters.
This fascinating dynamic warrants observation.
One of the staff members speaks behind me. “Subjects Eleven and Twelve are close by.”
I step back from the monitors, take my tablet, and walk over to the other corner.
The doors hiss open as they enter. I hear Stan before I see him. He’s complaining about the “horror-movie lighting.” Nil follows him in silence but appears attentive to the commentary.
I adjust my glasses and study their body language up close. Stan scans the room curiously. Nil’s steps fall a fraction behind his. They both halt when they see me.
“Good morning,” I say.
Stan smiles. “Good is debatable after that breakfast.”
Nil meets my eyes and nods. “Hi, Em.”
“Hello. Please sit.” I gesture to the chairs. “Physical assessments begin in one minute.”
Stan drops into his seat with theatrical ease. Nil lowers himself beside Stan with controlled movement.
“You’re staring, doc,” Stan says.
“I’m observing.”
“Hot.” He widens his stance. “You’re still staring. Haven’t even blinked. Is this your version of flirting?”
“I don’t flirt.”
He smirks. “For the record, you can stare at me as much as you want. I could even pose.”
I ignore him and focus on Nil. He sits with stillness that would be impressive even without the context of his recovery. His breathing holds when I attach nodes on him.
My eyes track upward out of habit. His pulse spikes briefly on the monitor. Stress response, I assume. Anticipation of physical assessment is common. But when I glance up at his face, what catches my attention instead is the red along the top of his ears.
I move on without comment, intending to note it later.
There’s a long day ahead, so I place the nodes the same way on Stan while the two talk about the gym. They seem to have favorable remarks, except Stan quips quickly about “creepy mirrors.”
Their data populate my tablet quickly. I look over the readings, trying to determine whether they’ve been affected by exertion or proximity. This will require repeat measurements. I find myself looking forward to more sessions with them.
Stan leans toward me, elbows on his knees. “So what’s next? Do we get a psychic exam? Maybe a dream dissection? I bet mine’s spicy.”
“We’ll be proceeding to reflex mapping,” I say.
“Aw, no wet dream read?”
Nil watches me with quiet attention. He hasn’t said much, but he seems to take in everything.
“Look at you two,” Stan says with a smirk. “I feel like the third wheel in a very dry marriage.”
Nil laughs lightly while I arch my eyebrow at Stan.
“Em, Nil just thought I was funny!” Stan shouts. “Write that down. That’s groundbreaking science!”
I move to reflex testing. Nil’s leg responds cleanly. Stan, in contrast, kicks as if attempting to launch himself out of his seat.
“Voluntary?” I ask.
He winks. “You just tickled a funny bone, doc.”
Before I can respond, the MedBay door opens. Idris steps in. He’s carrying a tray with the blood draw kits and gloves on.
“Apologies for interrupting,” Idris says, smiling.
Stan’s grin returns. “Hey, if it isn’t my favorite Prince of Egypt. Want some semen samples, handsome?”
“No, thank you,” Idris answers with a startled laugh.
Nil huffs under his breath.
“These are for blood testing,” Idris explains, lifting the tray before placing them on a table. “Stan, you’re first.”
Stan presses a hand to his chest. “An honor.”
Nil mutters, “Might need to stab him hard.”
Stan lifts his brows. “Because I have big muscles, right?”
Nil stifles a laugh, while Idris draws blood from Stan, who overreacts, dramatically frowning at the needle, then claims he barely felt it go in. When it’s Nil’s turn, he offers his arm without hesitation.