Chapter Six
Alex
I wake up slowly, aware first of warmth, then of the soft blue glow against my closed eyelids. Vel'aan's bioluminescence. He's awake—I can tell by the slight tension in his body, the way his breathing isn't quite as deep as it was during sleep.
I don't move yet, just lie there enjoying the feeling of being pressed against his side. My arm is still across his chest where I threw it hours ago, and he hasn't pushed me away. That has to mean something, right?
"Morning," I murmur against his shoulder, not opening my eyes.
"Good morning." His voice is soft, uncertain.
I stretch slightly, the movement pressing me closer against him. His skin is cool and smooth under my arm, and I can feel his bioluminescence pulse brighter at the contact.
"Sleep well?" I ask, finally opening my eyes to look up at him. He's staring at the ceiling, patterns of gold and blue shifting across his skin.
"Yes."
"Me too." I shift, propping myself up on one elbow to see him better. "You're very comfortable."
"I should get up," he says, but doesn't move. "There will be significant storm damage to assess."
"In a minute." I let my hand drift down from his chest to rest on his stomach. The muscles there tense immediately, and his glow intensifies. "This is nice."
"Alex..."
"What?" I keep my touch light, just resting there, feeling the way his skin warms slightly under my palm. "I like being here with you."
"We should really get up."
"Should we?" My fingers find the hem of his sleep pants, playing with the fabric absently. The material is soft, well-worn. "I can think of better ways to start the morning."
He goes very still. "What do you mean?"
I trace along the waistband with one finger, barely touching. "How do you feel about morning sex?"
The reaction is explosive. He jerks away from me like I've burned him, practically falling off the platform in his scramble to put distance between us. His bioluminescence erupts in chaotic patterns—purple and white and a sickly green I haven't seen before.
"We hardly know each other!" His voice cracks slightly. He's pressed against the wall now, arms wrapped around himself defensively.
I sit up, confused and a little hurt. "What? Yesterday we—"
"Yesterday was... yesterday was too much. Too fast." He won't look at me, his gaze fixed on the floor. "This is inappropriate."
"Inappropriate?" I swing my legs off the platform, trying to understand the sudden shift. "Vel'aan, what's wrong? Did I do something—"
"Nothing is wrong." He's already moving toward his storage unit, pulling out work clothes with sharp, agitated movements. "I simply think it would be best if I returned you to your dwelling."
I stare at him "You're kicking me out?"
"I'm not—" He stops, takes a breath. "I'm being practical. We met yesterday. One day. People don't... this isn't how things are supposed to progress."
"According to who?"
"According to logic. To appropriate social parameters." He's getting dressed with his back to me, his movements quick and efficient. "I'll request a shuttle."
I stand up, anger starting to creep in alongside the hurt. "So that's it? I suggest we could have sex and you just shut down?"
"I'm not shutting down. I'm thinking clearly."
"Clearly." I look around for my clothes, remembering they're still damp in the main room. I'm standing here in borrowed shorts trying to have this conversation. "Can I at least have my clothes?"
"They're in the drying unit. I will get them for you."
He leaves the room without another word. I follow him, watching as he retrieves my clothes.
"I'm sorry," I say as I get dressed as quickly as possible. I've never been thrown out of someone's place before. "I shouldn't have pushed."
"You didn't push." He's at his communication panel, calling for transport. "I simply realized that yesterday's... activities were a result of storm-induced adrenaline and proximity. Nothing more."
"Nothing more?" I stare at his back, at the rigid set of his shoulders. "You let me sleep next to you. We cuddled."
"Mistakes in judgment."
His words hurt. "Right. Mistakes."
The shuttle arrives with depressing efficiency, hovering at his platform within minutes.
The ride is excruciating. Vel'aan sits as far from me as physically possible in the small space, his body angled away, his bioluminescence dim and tightly controlled.
I can see the transport operator glancing between us, clearly sensing the tension.
The morning is gorgeous—clear skies after the storm, the water that particular shade of turquoise that comes after heavy weather. I barely notice. I'm too busy trying to figure out what went wrong, what I did to trigger this complete reversal.
When we arrive at Tev'ra's dwelling, I turn to him one last time. "Is this goodbye? Or can I see you again?"
He finally looks at me, those golden eyes unreadable, his skin dim except for faint pulses at his throat. "Perhaps goodbye is for the best."
The words are quiet, final. I nod once, not trusting my voice, and exit the shuttle without another word. I don't look back, don't watch it leave. I just walk into the dwelling with as much dignity as I can manage.
The main area is empty, but as I pass the sleeping quarters, I hear sounds that make it very clear Finn and Tev'ra are having a much better morning than I am. Rhythmic thumping, low moans, Finn's distinctive laugh. Great. Perfect. Exactly what I need to hear right now.
Icatch sight of myself in the wall's reflective surface. I look tired. Rejected. My hair is still messed up from sleeping pressed against Vel'aan's shoulder.
Fuck this. I need ice cream.
I head back to the synthesizer, scrolling through options with more force than necessary. Ice cream. All the ice cream. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry. Fudge sauce. Caramel. Whipped cream. Cherries. And a banana, because if I'm going to eat my feelings, I'm going to do it properly.
The synthesizer produces a truly magnificent banana split, and I carry it back down to my underwater bedroom.
At least here I can wallow in peace. The fish drift past the transparent walls, completely indifferent to human romantic disasters.
A school of the purple ones Vel'aan pointed out yesterday swims by, and I hate it.
I flop onto the sleeping platform with my bowl, shoving a massive spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. Brain freeze hits immediately, which is actually a nice distraction from the emotional pain.
Twenty minutes later, I'm halfway through the banana split and watching a particularly large creature with tentacles investigate the window when Finn appears in the doorway.
His hair is a mess, and he's wearing just sleep pants that clearly belong to Tev'ra—they're too long and riding low on his hips.
"Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "Sorry if we were loud."
I smirk, though it feels hollow. "Never apologize for having a love life."
"Ouch." He comes in, settling on the edge of my platform. The movement makes the ice cream bowl wobble, and I steady it. "That bad?"
"He literally had me shuttled away."
"Shit. What happened?"
"We woke up together—cuddling, you know? It was nice. Really nice. So I thought maybe we could take things further."
"And?"
"And he acted like I'd suggested we murder puppies." I take another bite of ice cream, the sweetness cloying now. "Said we hardly knew each other, that yesterday was too fast, that goodbye was for the best."
"Yesterday? I thought you've been with him since the storm?"
"That was yesterday."
"Oh." Finn blinks. "Alex, you tried to have sex with someone you've known for literally one day?"
"When you say it like that it sounds bad."
"It sounds fast."
"We had a connection!"
"You had one day."
Tev'ra appears with a tray of drinks—something blue and slightly glowing in delicate glasses. "I thought perhaps beverages would help."
"Alcohol?" I ask hopefully.
"It has similar properties for humans."
"Perfect." I take one and down half of it immediately. It burns pleasantly, tastes like something between vodka and fruit juice.
Tev'ra settles elegantly on the floor, somehow making it look graceful. "Perhaps you could explain the full situation?"
So I do. Starting with finding him at the platform, the zhik'ra forest tour, the storm shelter, the cuddling, sleeping together. By the time I'm done, my banana split is soup and I'm on my second drink.
"He panicked," Tev'ra says simply.
"You think?"
"Vel'aan has been in isolation for a decade. You represented significant change very quickly."
"But he was into it. He was literally glowing when I touched him."
"Involuntary responses don't always align with emotional readiness." Tev'ra sips his drink thoughtfully. "From what you describe, you were his first meaningful contact in ten years. That's overwhelming."
"So I scared him off."
"You moved faster than he could process."
I groan, sliding down to lie flat on the platform. "I fucked up."
"You moved too fast," Finn corrects, stealing my spoon to try the melted ice cream. "Jesus, this is sweet."
"It's sadness soup."
"It's diabetes in a bowl."
"Same thing." I watch a school of silver fish spiral past. "He said goodbye was for the best."
"Fear makes people say things they don't mean," Tev'ra offers.
"Or maybe he meant it. Maybe he realized I'm too much, too pushy, too human."
"You are all of those things," Finn says, and I throw a pillow at him. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't want you."
"He literally had me removed from his dwelling."
"After you propositioned him before breakfast."
"It wasn't a proposition! It was a suggestion."
"Alex." Finn gives me his 'be serious' look. "You were playing with his waistband."
"Barely!"
"After knowing him for one day."
"Fine! I moved too fast. Happy?"
"The question is," Tev'ra interjects, "what will you do now?"
I sit up, draining my second drink. "Get drunk on alien booze and eat ice cream until I explode?"
"After that."
"I don't know. He was pretty clear about not wanting to see me again."
"He was clear about being frightened," Tev'ra corrects. "Very different things."
"You think I should try again?"
"I think you should give him time to process, then approach differently."
"Differently how?"
"Less physically forward, perhaps. Focus on connection rather than attraction."
"But the attraction is part of the connection!"
"For you. For someone who's been isolated for a decade, it might be terrifying."
I flop back again, staring at the water. A massive shadow passes nearby—probably one of those manta things.
"I came here to thank him," I say quietly. "That's all I meant to do. Thank him for saving my life. But then he was so sweet and awkward and gorgeous, and when he held my hand it felt... right. Like something clicking into place."
"That's lovely," Tev'ra says. "Did you tell him that?"
"I told him I wanted morning sex."
"Not quite the same message."
"I'm bad at slow," I admit. "I see something I want and I go for it."
"Vel'aan isn't something you can acquire through determination," Tev'ra says gently. "He's a person who needs time, patience, understanding."
"I can be patient."
Finn snorts. "Since when?"
"Since now. Starting now."
"Really?"
"Yes." I sit up, decided. "How do I see him again without seeming like a stalker?"
"He's a zhik'ra farmer," Tev'ra points out. "He has to check storm damage. He'll be at the cultivation platforms for days doing repairs."
"So I accidentally run into him?"
"Or you deliberately offer to help with repairs. Actual help, not an excuse for proximity."
"I can do that."
"Can you?" Finn asks skeptically. "Can you spend time with him without trying to touch him?"
"Yes."
"Without flirting?"
"...Maybe."
"Alex."
"I'll try, okay? I'll be helpful and respectful and keep my hands to myself."
"That would be a good start."
I look at my melted ice cream, then at my friends who are trying so hard to help despite my disasters.
"Thanks," I say. "For listening. For not judging. For the alien alcohol."
"Always," Finn says. "But maybe shower first? You smell like storm water and sadness."
"Romantic."
"Accurate."
He's not wrong. I head for the hygiene facilities, already planning. Tomorrow I'll go to the cultivation platforms. I'll offer to help with repairs. I'll be friendly but not pushy, helpful but not flirty. I'll show him that I can respect boundaries, that I want to know him, not just sleep with him.
Even if that's also true.
It's going to be torture, but Vel'aan is worth it. The way he glowed when he was happy, the way he sang that lullaby, the way he curved into me while sleeping—all of it tells me there's something there worth fighting for.
I just need to fight differently. Smarter. Slower.
Tomorrow, I'll try again.
For now, I'll shower, eat real food, and try not to think about how empty that platform felt the moment he pulled away. Try not to remember the sickly green his bioluminescence turned when I scared him.
Try to figure out how to show him that what I feel isn't just attraction or gratitude, but something deeper.