Chapter 8 #2
Left alone, I make full use of the facilities and scrub my body until I feel brand new.
I’m pleasantly surprised to see the same products I’d found in Tanisira’s bathroom, lathering the shampoo into my curls and filling the whole cabin with the scent of pomegranates.
But my favourite thing ever is when I finish pulling on another cut-and-paste outfit, turn around and find a tray on the coffee table.
A steaming to-go cup of milky coffee heaped with—I take a sip—enough sugar to give anyone sukra malady.
It’s delicious. It’s also in a contained cup, and I’m so grateful because my tremors are extremely inconvenient by this point.
I find my way to the crew’s galley, and I’ve already drained the whole thing, scalded throat be damned.
Tanisira stands at the tiny viewport that I had failed to see yesterday in all the excitement.
Her hands are tucked into the pockets of dark cargo pants, the line of her jaw limned in the ship’s lighting as she gazes out into space.
I hadn’t noticed earlier that she was wearing a fleece, and when she turns around upon my approach, I see Midas embroidered in gold across the chest. Right now, she looks like a captain.
I wrangle any thoughts of kisses and give her my most casual smile.
“Thank you for the coffee, it was perfect.”
“Swagat akana.” She gestures to the table where there’s a small spread. “You must have made a good impression on Devyaan because he laid that out for you and threatened to mutiny if I didn’t let you eat first.”
I press my hands to my chest. “That’s so kind of him. Why, were you going to put me to work?”
“Of course not. I’m not even sure about you helping now.”
I pause beside the table, feeling a little dismayed. “What do you mean?”
“You’re trembling like a leaf.”
I sidestep Tanisira’s comment, not wanting to deal with that right now. Instead, I give her an appraising look.
“What?” She asks, quick on the uptake.
“I’m only asking because I would want you to correct me if I ever said something not quite right in Surya-Vaani—would you want me to let you know if you make a mistake in Tellurian?”
Tanisira tilts her head in that way she has, curious. “Please.”
“The saying is shaking like a leaf, not trembling, although the meaning still comes across. It wouldn’t raise many eyebrows, if any, but it is noticeable.”
The quirk in the corner of her mouth is so small yet has such an effect on the room—she does it so rarely. I think I can even detect gratitude in that smile.
I end up stuffing a croissant into my mouth as I grab a seat.
Waving Tanisira over, I push everything into the middle of the table and wait for her to sit.
The pastry is buttery and soft, and I could cry as it melts in my mouth.
It hits my stomach hard, but once I start eating in earnest and soak up the coffee, I feel way better.
This is all followed up with some juice; freshly pressed, thick and tart.
Tanisira hums as she bites into something that looks like a very thin, flaky waffle.
The noise is so unexpected that I get stuck watching her chew.
She says it’s called patisri duci, and after savouring a few bites, she holds it out to me.
I’m surprised by how easily she does it.
I hesitate, staring at the place where she last sank her teeth.
Suddenly, my skin prickles with warmth—this feels obscenely intimate.
The worst part is Tanisira doesn’t even seem to realise; she looks confused.
“What’s wrong?”
Put on the spot, I say the first thing that pops into my head. “Just impressed at how quickly you offered to share with me,” I force a laugh. “I hate sharing. Especially food.”
Then with a smile, I lean forward and take a bite. Something like excitement fizzles through me when we make eye contact, and Tanisira’s gaze drops to my mouth. Oh, God, I can’t handle her looking at me like that right now.
“Only child syndrome, you know?” I blurt. It’s not even a lie; I’m bad at sharing, and territorial, amongst other things unique to my childhood.
She finally looks away, pushing the platter of pastries towards me. “I can see that.”
It’s close enough to a joke that I can laugh for real, and force my mind away from the rasp in her voice and towards the sugary treat.
It’s so sweet that I’m amazed, after that little lecture Tanisira gave me a few days ago, she can stand to eat it.
As she picks up another, I file away the fact that she rocks slightly back and forth when she enjoys her food.
I really shouldn’t be hoarding any facts about her. But the way she just pinned all that intensity on me…
I’m just going to say it.
I meet Tanisira’s eyes and raise my brows. “Last night was intense.”
She’s back to being hard to read. She sits back and crosses her arms, and I catch the moment her gaze dips down to my lips for the second time. “Which part?”
I lose all my courage. Thankfully, my mouth is incapable of drying out because of the juice I’m pouring into it. “I have some questions,” I say, backtracking. “Well, I have a lot of questions.”
“I thought you might. I’m happy to answer them.” Tanisira inclines her head slightly, but when I go to continue, she cuts me off. “As long as you tell me what’s going on with you.”
I freeze, which is when my hand spasms around the frosted glass.
Because, of course, Dominik has stocked his ship with glass.
There’s a loaded second where my fingers clench on the cup before it slips right out of my hand.
I watch, mortified, as it falls—anticipating the crash, the mess.
But Tanisira catches it, the glass cupped in one hand and the bottom of it pressed into the palm of her other.
Juice dribbles over the rim, rivulets across her skin, a puddle on the deck, drops splashed over my clothes.
I inhale sharply. “How did you do that? Mods?”
I didn’t think it was very common on Mars.
She puts the cup down and shakes her head softly. “No.”
It seems impossible for her to have such good reflexes without body mods.
“Then how?”
Tanisira leans in and swipes her thumb over my collarbone, wiping a drop of juice from my skin. It sends a shiver through me.
“I was just paying attention.” She shrugs slightly.
The soft curling of her words sends an effervescent tingle through my stomach. All I can do is nod, on the verge of swallowing my tongue at the look in her eyes. Everything she says carries such weight, as though she’ll never utter a word that she doesn’t mean. Worst, I believe it.
Tanisira sits back in her seat again. “I’m waiting.”
“Nothing going on with me.”
“Try that again.”
My heart rate picks up, but I shrug nonchalantly. I like to think I’m a decent liar, but with the mantle of her attention on my shoulders, I’m cringing.
“I’m only asking because you don’t look well. There is no ulterior motive.”
I didn’t think I looked that bad, but I should have known better around Tanisira’s sharp eye. “Just recovering from yesterday, I’m sure.”
“You’re pale and you’re shaking like a leaf. You didn’t look like this after the officers disembarked. After some rest, you should be, if not lively, then at least better.”
She shakes her head, and I feel a flash of irritation that she is always so put together.
She has seen me fall on my face, have a complete meltdown and then nearly pass out from anxiety.
I have seen her... maybe a little angry?
I hate being vulnerable, and I hate being this vulnerable in front of someone as competent as Tanisira.
But I can see the steel in her posture, bracketing her spine and her mouth, and I know I have to say something.
I exhale slowly, trying to release the tension knotted in my shoulders. “Okay, fine. I’m not feeling entirely well.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s not so serious. I’ll be fine once I get some rest.” Once I raid the medical bay.
Watching the infinitesimal shifts in her expression is interesting, if terrifying.
She sees too much. And for a stranger—or at least, someone who doesn’t need to care—this feels something like an invasion.
I sit rigidly in my chair, and it takes everything in me to stay there.
It’s even worse when I catch the little darts her gaze makes to my traitorous fingers.
Trying to come across as casual, I slip my hands under my thighs and press them firmly into the metal.
“We should postpone the spacewalk,” she says, but it sounds like a proposal.
I’m annoyed, so it’s aggravating that she’s being cute.
What pisses me off more is that she’s technically right—my ego stirs like a bad case of indigestion, and I find that I can’t make myself look even more fragile in front of her.
It’s stupid. I hate it as it’s happening. I do it anyway.
“Nope.” I pop the ‘p’ and leap to my feet, wobbling a little. “Let’s go.”
She eyes me, standing. “Mar—”
“You said we needed to get out there.”
“I can go out there today and you can join tomorrow. You’d be a liability like this.”
I guess I expected her to have zero tolerance at this point or try to bear down on me, so I deflate pretty quickly when she doesn’t. She just waits patiently. I run my hands through my curls, hating— not for the first time in my life—that they give me away.
“What was the plan for today’s spacewalk?” I ask. Less of a brat, more mortified, still annoyed.
“Kit compiled a list of tasks. The problem is the blind spots where sensors and cameras were snapped off or disabled. I had planned to canvas the hull, bridge the gaps in her report and complete the list.”
I raise an eyebrow. “No fixing?”
“Not if it can be helped. I don’t want to rush the survey and miss anything. We’re moving so fast that if we were to hit anything, it’d be certain death. I want to get it right the first time.”
I roll my eyes as I get to my feet. “I can do that, no problem.”
She surprises me by responding, “That’s very big talk for someone who had a panic attack in the airlock.”
I gasp so loudly it almost winds me. “Every time you make a joke, it’s honestly like being in a fever dream.”
I don’t think Tanisira finds that funny because she doesn’t reply, although her face is so carefully blank I wonder if she’s laughing inside.
The tension in the room becomes something else entirely.
With those sharp eyes pinned on me, I’m frozen in place.
If I were to close the distance between us, how would she react?
I want her to say something about last night, even if it’s just to confirm that she wished it hadn’t happened.
I open my mouth, and Vee comes bounding in.
“Dad sent comms telling me to be ready for a vid call in ten,” he says. “He said he had important meetings he couldn’t get out of, or he’d have called yesterday. You coming?”
My heart takes a dive off the scaffolding of my ribcage, and I barely manage to control my facial muscles. Still, it takes me a moment to gather the ability to talk.
“How nice!” I say, too loudly, with too much enthusiasm.
Vee gives me a strange look but does me the kindness of not mentioning it. “So, are you coming?”
“Actually, remember how earlier I told you I wasn’t prepared for this trip?
Well, that’s because I’m surprising your father.
Not to get back together with him,” I say hurriedly as Vee’s expression starts to darken.
“Just that I was supposed to join you a few days later, but I managed to get more time off.”
My guts churn. I can suddenly taste all that food I ate in the back of my throat. I hate lying to him. I hate it hate it hate it. Even more, I hate what I’m about to ask him to do.
“Okay...”
“Let’s not tell him that I’m here with you, okay? I want to surprise him when we get to Suryavana.”
Vee looks faintly amused, in the way that sometimes reminds me he’s maturing more and more every day; a small kick to the chest, an urge to hold him tight and never let go. But he doesn’t question me, because he has never had to before. He simply shrugs.
“Okay. I won’t tell him.”
I must do a good job of hiding how much that hurts because he bounds away again without looking back. Tanisira gives me a few moments to collect myself, so I’m obviously not doing that good of a job. Now Dominik has made a liar out of both of us.
“Can we wait until their call is over before we start?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. It feels like I have acid in my chest.
“Of course.”
“I just... he’s a kid, you know? He could let something slip by accident, and I don’t want to be stuck in the airlock if he does.”
Tanisira, thankfully, doesn’t bother to remind me that she’s a grown woman with a brain and five working senses.
She sits back down, and I do the same, and I pretend to pick at the food even though there’s no way I could possibly eat anything now.
And I think about my kid in another room and the second crack that just formed in our foundation.
I should be happy—I didn’t expect Dominik to reach out at all. I wanted him to try harder, to make an effort with his son, and any time he interacts with Vee without Opal as a go-between is a good thing. It’s just unfortunate that he chose now to start.