35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
S kye
The small box in my hands feels impossibly light for something so monumental. My heart races as I make my way to Thrax’s room, barely containing my excitement. This tiny device, no bigger than a hearing aid, represents the most important thing I’ve done in my career. It took years of school and training to have the skills to tackle it, plus countless late nights and more caffeine than I care to admit. But more importantly, it’s a bridge—a way for Thrax to truly connect with this new world he’s found himself in.
Pausing outside his door, I take a deep breath, wiggling my fingers and toes to help compose myself. It wouldn’t do to burst in like an overexcited puppy. With as much dignity as I can muster (which, admittedly, isn’t much), I knock.
“ Intra ,” Thrax’s deep voice calls out.
I enter to find him sitting by the window, steel wool and a small piece of wood in his hands. The sight of him so focused, his brow furrowed in concentration, reminds me of how much I care for this man.
As he gets a guilty look on his face and hides what he’s been working on while reaching with the other hand to turn on the translation app, I say “Hey,” unable to keep the grin off my face. I have a secret, but it seems he’s keeping a secret of his own—a good one, I hope. “I’ve got something for you.”
Thrax lifts his gaze to me, his eyes lighting up in a way that makes me feel like the most important person in the world. “What is it?”
Approaching him, I hold out the box with a flourish. “Only the coolest thing ever,” I declare, half words, half song. “Go on, open it!”
He sets aside his carving project, making sure to hide it behind his ass, and takes the box, handling it with a gentleness that still surprises me, knowing that he was a fearsome gladiator in his distant past. As he lifts the lid, his eyebrows raise in curiosity. “It’s… very small,” he observes, peering at the tiny device nestled in protective foam.
“It’s an in-ear translator,” I explain, practically wiggling with excitement. “Remember John MacKenzie, the tech wizard I told you about? He’s been working on integrating my software into wearable hardware. This is the first prototype. Well… one of the first two.” I hold mine up, still in its box. I felt it was only right for him to try his first.
Thrax’s eyes widen as understanding dawns. “You mean…?”
I nod enthusiastically. “This little guy goes right in your ear, translating in real-time. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s a huge step forward.”
He picks up the device, marveling at its size. “How does it work?”
“Here, let me show you.” I gently take it from him. “It fits right in your ear, like this.” I demonstrate, carefully placing it in his ear. “There’s a companion app on your phone that lets you adjust settings and choose languages. For now, it’s set for Latin to English and vice versa. ”
Thrax sits very still as I fit the device, his eyes never leaving my face. When it’s in place, I step back, grabbing my own earbud from its case. “Ready to give it a try?”
He nods. He’s been doing a great job of sitting still, but now his eyes flash wide, giving away just how excited he is. I slip my earbud in and activate both devices through the app.
“Okay,” I say, my voice louder than it needs to be due to my excitement. “Say something.”
His face lights up as he obviously understood what I just said.
Thrax takes a deep breath, then speaks. “ Haec res est incredibilis, Skye . Gratias tibi ago ex imo corde .”
The translation comes through my earbud smoothly: “This is incredible, Skye. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, pure joy spilling over. “It works! Oh my god, it actually works!”
Thrax’s face breaks into a wide grin and he touches the device with something akin to reverence. “I can understand you perfectly,” he says in Latin, the translation flowing seamlessly into my ear. “It’s like magic.”
For the next hour, we chat back and forth, testing the limits of the device. Since it’s using the software I developed, we know the Latin pronunciations still leave something to be desired, and it struggles with idioms and many technical terms, but overall, it’s a resounding success. The ability to speak freely, without the need for phones or computers between us, feels liberating.
As our excitement settles into a comfortable glow, Thrax’s expression turns thoughtful. “Skye,” he says, reaching for the piece of wood he was working on earlier. “I have something for you, too.”
Curiosity piqued, I watch as he holds out his hand, uncurling his fingers to reveal a small, intricately carved wooden pendant. It’s a delicate representation of a dolphin, its body curved gracefully as if in mid-leap .
“Oh, Thrax,” I breathe, taking the pendant carefully. “It’s beautiful.” It’s much more detailed than the phallus, and smooth as glass. “Why a dolphin?”
He smiles softly, a hint of shyness in his expression. “In my time, dolphins were seen as protectors of sailors—sacred guardians—guiding lost ships to safety. You’ve been my guide in this strange new world, my protector. I wanted to give you something to show my gratitude.”
His gaze falls to the floor when he says, “It won’t hurt my feelings if you take that phallus off. To be honest, it makes me feel bad every time I look at it because it reminds me of how foolish I was and how I hurt your feelings, even though I never intended any harm.”
How can this man own my heart after just knowing me for a handful of weeks? I don’t know, but he’s so sweet, thoughtful, and remarkably able to express vulnerable feelings many men would never admit to.
Hot tears tremble at the corners of my eyes. The thought he’s put into this gift, the hours of work to create something so meaningful, overwhelms me. “I love it,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “Will you put it on me?”
Thrax nods, taking the pendant, standing behind me, and fastening it around my neck. His fingers brush against my skin, making me shiver. He leans to the ear that doesn’t have the translator and whispers, “Docuisti me cor habuisse et nunc te fatebor.”*
He plants the sweetest, warmest, breathiest kiss behind my ear as I wonder what he said. I’m not sure I need to know. I can imagine a thousand lovely sentences that will forever keep me warm at night.
When he’s done, I turn to face him, one hand clutching the dolphin.
The intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. Slowly, telegraphing my intentions, I lean in. Our lips meet in a kiss that’s soft and sweet, full of promise and unspoken feelings .
When we part, I rest my forehead against his chest, savoring the moment.
Finally, I can’t contain my urge to ask, “Is it a secret, what you whispered a moment ago?”
His mouth opens, then he clamps his lips shut with the oddest, sweetest look on his face.
“You tell me, Skye. What do you wish I’d said?”
I manage to keep my mouth from dropping open. Men in this century do not play such sweet courting games. I pause for so long, he says, “Never mind. You don’t have to say.”
Perhaps it’s his offer to rescind the question that allows me to answer—though I don’t have the courage to hold onto his searing gaze.
“I wish you’d said that… that you care for me.” I pause, having a lively internal debate, as I wonder if I should throw caution to the wind and say more. What the heck. This is the type of relationship I’ve dreamed of since I first became interested in boys, one where I could share my heart and soul with another human. “And that you’ve never had feelings as deep and sincere for anyone else.”
He lifts me by my hips and twirls me, taking care not to bash either of us into the bed. “That’s exactly what I said, Skye. Exactly.”
He settles on the bed with me on his lap, my hip grazing his stomach. Then this huge mountain of a man, this gladiator from another time, rocks me back and forth like a baby. He sings to me, his voice so deep it vibrates through me. His words are a jumble of things he must make up as he goes along.
Did I just think I was the one who risked my vulnerable heart by asking for what I wanted? Because this man is spilling his soul to me.
“So beautiful… my heart is so tender for you… the moon and the stars above are pale next to your light… even the flowers on the Palatine Hill aren’t as pretty as you…” He’s not stopping, just pouring the most beautiful, soulful thoughts out to me until every muscle, cell, and fiber of my body relaxes against him.
I should stay awake so I don’t miss a word of this. I really should, but I melt against his huge, warm frame and let my mind wander to a future so wonderful I never dared dream of it before.
Surely, I must have only dozed a moment, but this amazing, gargantuan man is still singing my praises when I awake. I guess we have two choices—make love, or… do something, anything, else.
“I’m going to make you feel so good tonight.” He lifts an eyebrow so fraught with sexual innuendo I’d be able to read it even if I were blind. “I’m going to lick you and taste you and make you scream my name so loud you’ll embarrass yourself and me and everyone in the hospital.” He laughs from his belly so deeply it almost jiggles me off the bed.
“But now that I can understand the words better, I want to watch your Firefly. ” He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest.
“I’d like that. But… can we stay here a little longer? I’m not ready to leave your arms.”
My request makes him hum with pleasure, something I can imagine us doing often in the future.
Later, we make a quick munchie run, I set up the TV, and we laze away the rest of the day. Even though I have so much to refine in my translation program, it works adequately. I can take one damn day off and lie here with my lover. We kiss and tease each other to distraction. I feed him grapes, which I’ve always dreamed of doing… with the right man.
I make him sit up so I can reapply the meds Elodie gave him and cover his back with new bandages. Thrax makes a production of rearranging us between episodes three and four, his mouth filled with strawberries as he insists, “I’m loving it, Skye. We have to watch at least one more. ”
For a moment, I wonder if he’s manhandling me, moving me around, to get me in position for lovemaking. But he’s not. He said he just wanted my company and is too honorable not to stick to his promise.
Then I see what all the machinations were about. We’re in the perfect position for him to rub my feet. This turns out to be not just any foot rub, but the world’s best. First of all, it’s the world’s best because it’s Thrax who is touching me with so much tenderness. But second, just like when we’re making love, he pays so much attention, as though he’s fine-tuning all his senses, to make certain he knows exactly what I like, where I like it, and how hard to press.
“Heaven.” I order my eyes to open. One nap a day is plenty. Besides, I want to be wide awake and raring to go when he tires of Firefly’s Captain Malcolm Reynolds and wants to turn all his attention to me.
*Direct translation: You taught me I had a heart and now you own it.