Chapter 52
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
NORA
Nora watched Airik for a long time, running her fingers through his silky hair. His eyes had been shut for some time and his breathing had fallen into a deep, even rhythm.
She tried to memorize the pressure of his weight against her chest. How his right hand clenched her braid, even as he slept. How his breath spread hot against her skin with each exhale.
This will all be taken from me soon.
There were gray streaks across his back—scrapes from when he’d shielded her from the sexbot. Lucky whimpered beside them as he rolled to his other side, his wrapped leg thudding against the floor.
She sighed, then turned to pick up the flask of water beside her.
Maybe it’s best for them if they’re taken from me. I’m not very good at taking care of things that I love.
The word—even just the thought of it—triggered something.
A pain struck, hard and sudden, deep in her chest. Cold sweat burst all over her skin.
Oh, fuck. Not here.
Her fist closed tight on Airik’s hair, reacting to the totality of despair and all that could still go wrong in her life. Airik made a noise, still asleep but trying to relieve the tension from her grasp.
I’m okay…this isn’t dying. I…I don’t want to do that anymore. I’m okay. I’m okay.
But Airik wouldn’t be. She’d made him fuck her selfishly, knowing he’d pay for it later.
How could a world that genetically engineered and sailed through space not know whether two people had fucked?
They could test for it somehow. What if his virginity had been part of his strength?
What if his species lost something critical to survival when they mated?
What if he gave her something important of himself when he filled her with come, regardless of whether she deserved the magic she was certain it contained? What if—
Lucky let out a slight sound as he woke, rubbing against her side.
Unable to lift her arm to calm him, all she could manage was “Uh—”
He reared on his one good back leg so that he could press his paws on her chest. He started to purr, so loud the vibrations felt like they shook her lungs.
“Thank you,” she whispered, forcing her arm to pet him. “I’m fine. This…happens sometimes.”
She felt a hot finger on her cheek. Airik shifted his head, his eyes still only half open.
Smiling, she tried to speak, but all that came out was an awkward laugh followed by a pained sigh.
He shot up, giving her a sweeping look from head to toe.
When it was clear that she wasn’t going to be able to explain, he swiftly took Nora into his lap, cupping her face, searching her eyes.
His strong arms came around her, grounding her, pulling her down from the black sound that rang loud in her ears.
“You are sweating, cheranna. What is happening to you?” He pulled her down into his body like she’d disappear if he didn’t.
He followed her gaze to the water flask. Airik tore the top off with his teeth, then tipped the opening into her mouth. She guzzled it, the cool water filling her belly.
Lucky climbed into her lap, and though he was much too big to fit entirely, his weight pushed Nora deep into Airik’s body.
All they’d done since reaching the city was eat and rest and kiss and fuck. There wasn’t anything left to do but wait, and rest was deserved after all their walking. But it shouldn’t have felt so good.
She opened her mouth to say it. That she hadn’t done enough to deserve this. That she should have died. Much earlier than the crash on this planet. That so many things should have happened to her, but not falling in—
No. That word wasn’t what this was. Not so quickly or so completely.
Like he’d been made for her to fit against. Giving her everything and asking for nothing. What she’d needed all her life. Even when he still didn’t have all the words, he knew how to love her.
Oh god—that word was exactly what this was. She had found it. And she couldn’t keep it because the only thing she excelled at was losing precious, beautiful things.
Airik’s arms banded around her chest, and he tucked her head under his chin. Letting out a small noise of desperation, he began rocking them back and forth.
Like she was a delicate thing. Giving her love and tenderness without her having to ask for it. Because she couldn’t. She wouldn’t even know how to begin to ask for help.
How in the world did he know how to do this and why with such ease?
Because…he wants me. He cares for me. No matter if I deserve it or not.
Totally enveloped by warm bodies, floating in the unfamiliar space of compassion and kindness, Nora’s breath and heart rate returned to where they should’ve been. Slow but sure.
Airik stroked her hair, murmuring dozens of promises into her ear, continuing to sway all three of them back and forth, a steady ship carrying all of their lives. “Whatever is happening, I won’t let it take you.”
“It will be all right. I swear it.”
“I have you.”
And some in his own language that sounded more like a desperate prayer.
It took long minutes, but her body relaxed a little, her muscles exhausted from bearing too much tension.
His own breath started to settle, following hers in calming. She tilted her head back on his shoulder to see him.
“Is this…What do you need? Whatever it is, please tell me.”
Her beautiful angel. It had only been a few weeks, but he knew everything about her. He had washed her hair, dried it, and braided it. He had kissed her ankle as it healed and cut her food into remarkably neat bites. He used the word fuck because it made her laugh.
There was no choice left. She had to let him in. Let him know the worst part of herself. Because right now, he looked at her like he’d done something wrong. Like he’d missed a clue that would’ve helped them avoid what had just happened to her.
And that was worse than him knowing the truth.
“Do you—” Her voice cracked. She took a deep breath and started again.
“Do you know the word brother? You know, a sibling? You might share parents, or you might not. But they could be one of your first friends or part of a…chosen family.” Unsure what relationships his world had, she explained the term carefully.
His gaze drifted to some point beyond her shoulder, lost in thought. “I know brother,” he said, his fingers finding hers, lacing them together.
“I have— I had a brother once. We had the same parents. In that family, I…used to be a sister.”
Airik released a sharp breath, but his expression didn’t change.
Something splintered inside her—old, thick, rotten vines that had seized all her organs and even her soul. They had stifled her heart for over twenty years.
It was time to let them go in this new world, where she might one day grow to be different.
“I had a brother,” she said again. Her cheeks pulsed as her heart worked hard to keep her alive. “And he died. When he was very small.” She held out her hand to show how tiny he had been, as Airik had done back on the ship when he’d told her when he had learned English.
“It was my fault,” she continued. “I was only a kid, too, but…I was old enough to know better. To listen better and not let him get hurt.”
I told him. I told Airik. Now he knows everything.
Cautiously, she looked up, her heart already dropping, bracing for disappointment, confusion, or disgust.
Airik’s eyes pulsed in a rhythm Nora imagined could be his heartbeat. There was a slight smile on his lips. Not one of joy or happiness or even relief that she had finally divulged a core truth about herself to him.
He smiled, the smile of someone who had known love once, only to lose it. A loss for which he blamed himself. The smile of someone who couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Airik had lived his whole life separated from Nora by who knew how many hundreds or billions of light-years. But the distance between their hearts had always been just a breath and a beat away.
He knew her. He would know all of her and…still want her.
The words tumbled out of her mouth. All of them.
About how when Theo had been brought home from the hospital as a newborn, Nora, a seven-year-old, had hidden in the closet, refusing to come out until he went away.
When he’d been one month old, she’d watched him sleep, shocked by the weird little noises he made and just how fragile human infants were.
She’d watched over him during his naps, distraught, worried he’d stop breathing.
So she had taken it upon herself to ensure that he never did.
She told Airik that Theo’s eyes had been blue.
Everyone thought they’d turn brown to match Nora’s, but as the weeks had turned to months, they’d brightened to a sky blue like her mother’s.
When he’d gotten a little older, he’d follow Nora around like a duckling.
At first, to her annoyance and then to her secret delight, to have such an enthusiastic shadow.
How instead of Mama or Dada, his first word had been Nora, quickly followed by cat because she’d talked so often about adopting one.
How Nora had eventually realized, lying among their stuffed animals together, that he would be her first friend in the world and for the rest of her life.
And then she described how that would never be. Of that day. Taking special care to describe seashells to Airik, in case he didn’t know what one was.
When she told him how she’d hit her head, his finger absently stroked the scar behind her ear. As if he’d already noticed it and now finally had a reason to touch it, as he did the one on his cheek.
At no point did she cry, though there were pauses. Each one like a period placed in the middle of a sentence, a memory of a life that, in Nora’s mind, had been too short to have many of them. Having never told anyone this before, she had no idea what to expect of herself.
All the while, Airik stroked her hair, wiped her cheeks, and listened. His eyes gleamed in the blue light, telling her he understood everything she said.