Assistant 23
The panic that gripped me was so blistering and excessive that it felt as if I had never experienced a moment of peace in my life.
My world crumbled the second Farr’vye confirmed there was a crack in my face shield. It wouldn’t be long before the crack spread and the protective barrier fell to pieces, exposing my face to the world for the first time in eight long years.
But… there was a single, brief moment when relief broke through the panic. When Farr’vye touched me with his feeler.
Without asking.
I was mad about that. Yet I couldn’t be that mad because in that second, it felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through storm clouds.
But then it was over, and I was upset, and I panicked even harder.
As if the weight dangling over me had finally broken free from its frayed thread, all the years of dread and anxiety caught up to me at once. My emotions were too big for my body. I was reduced to a scared little mouse instead of a rational human being.
I freaked out. I ran.
And then I tripped and rolled down a hill—right into a cluster of thorny flower bushes.
The universe was playing the world’s nastiest joke on me.
As usual, my first instinct was to panic and run. But when I jerked my arm away from the sticky thorns, I heard the loud, gut-wrenching sound of ripping fabric, followed by the sensation of cool night air tickling the bare skin of my arm.
For the first time in years, I was exposed.
I froze. My only motion was my thin shallow breaths, which came out so hard and fast that the inside of my face shield fogged up.
I could not move without tearing my suit—my only protection from the world.
Hot tears stung my eyes.
Yup. This is it. My pathetic life is over.
The fog inside my face shield dissipated just enough for me to notice Farr’vye sliding down the slope. His mane of feelers rose high into the air, flashing a dizzying array of colors, and his expression looked deadly serious.
Was he… worried?
But then I remembered my exposed skin. Even if he saved me from the thorns, he’d see me.
Meteor apocalypse? Any moment now… Please?
No meteors swarmed down from the sky, but Farr’vye bounded toward me. I expected him to pause at the edge of the bushes and seek a thorn-free path. Instead, he barreled through them as if they were nothing. It took me by surprise since Maeleons were usually more respectful of plant life.
It’s because he’s covered in scales, I rationalized. The thorns must not faze him.
But that wasn’t true. Some thorns grazed off his scaly hide, sure, but not all of them. By the time he reached me, he looked like a pin cushion. The only thorn-free part of him were his ultra-sensitive feelers, which he held high above the bushes.
“Are you hurt?” Farr’vye demanded.
I was so taken aback by the thorns clinging to his body that I momentarily forgot my own plight. There was no pain though. Just terror, slightly dulled by his arrival.
“Um… no,” I realized. “But my suit…”
As his brow furrowed, a dark slice gleamed on his forehead, and a thin stream of blood slipped down his snout. “What happened to your suit?”
The sight of his blood startled me.
“Farr’vye, you’re bleeding,” I pointed out.
He didn’t even flinch. “What happened to your suit?” he asked again.
“Um… it ripped. A lot.”
I felt like a fucking idiot talking about my ripped clothes while Farr’vye’s face was covered in blood. It forced me to put things into perspective and took the edge off my panic.
“Do not move. I will help you,” he insisted.
My heart pounded once, hard, like a hammer strike. But I couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or something else. Something I didn’t have the words to describe.
He was going to touch me. And I was… okay with that. More okay than I thought I would be.
“Sure,” I murmured.
I wasn’t sure how much my consent mattered, since Farr’vye looked dead set on rescuing me from this predicament whether I liked it or not. I guess the alternative was abandoning me here, and he wasn’t the type of guy to do that.
Jeez, since when was I so familiar with this weird alien?
Farr’vye’s orange eyes burned with concentration as he slowly reached for me. His tentacles hovered, ready to provide extra support, though I wasn’t sure how much he’d need it since he seemed as strong as the average Maeleon, and I was about as light and frail as an old sock with a hole in it.
With utmost care, Farr’vye’s huge hands gently wrapped around my upper arms. I had always thought of Maeleons as reptilian, but his touch was unexpectedly warm. And nice.
He blew out a frustrated breath through his nostrils. “I do not know if I can extract you without ripping the suit further.”
An icy ribbon of fear snaked through my ribs. That had been my nightmare for ages. But what choice did we have? The meteor apocalypse was nice in theory, since death would be instantaneous, but I didn’t love the idea of starving to death while stuck in a pile of thorn bushes.
Voicing the words was a battle between my mind and body, but I managed to grind out, “That’s… fine.”
Farr’vye grunted in agreement. Then, without flinching, he pushed aside the closest thorn branches with his tentacles while lifting my body with his arms.
It was over in an instant. I was free from the thorns, but it came at a price: the dreadful sound of fabric ripping in multiple locations, like the thorns were a giant lion refusing to release me from its claws.
I was flooded with instinctive relief. I wasn’t trapped anymore.
Farr’vye trudged back through the angry bushes, ignoring the second wave of tiny daggers that pierced him. He carried me carefully in his arms, using his muscles as a shield to defend me. Not a single thorn got past him.
By the time we escaped the bushes, I didn’t have a drop of blood on me, but Farr’vye was bleeding all over.
I thought he’d put me down and tend to his own injuries, but instead, he glanced down and asked, “You are unharmed?”
I didn’t think he’d ask again so soon. Surprised by his compassion, I nodded.
I couldn’t stop staring at the gleaming streaks of blood that crisscrossed his face and neck.
“Um… Are you okay?” I asked.
His eyes widened slightly, and I saw a flutter of pink course through his feelers.
“I am fine. Thank you for your concern,” Farr’vye replied. “Maeleons are quick to heal.”
I frowned. “But it must hurt.”
“I am simply glad you are safe.”
My linguist senses went off. I didn’t miss how he dodged my comment.
“Farr’vye,” I said. “Does it hurt?”
His orange eyes stared down at me, charged and unblinking. A shudder rolled over my skin. He really was intense. Normally, I found personalities like his frightening, but I was getting used to him. It was odd, but I almost found it a bit comforting.
“Yes, it hurts,” he admitted. “But I will be fine.”
Guilt punched me in the gut. Of course, he was in pain—he was covered in hundreds of bloody marks, and it was my fault. If I hadn’t run away like a coward, as I always did, he wouldn’t be scored up like a cutting board.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
His eyes narrowed with gentleness. “I will take you somewhere safe.”
My insides continued to roil with guilt as Farr’vye carried me away from the thorny danger zone.
He walked back up the hill, his strides effortless thanks to his muscular thighs.
He found a patch of grass, flattened it with a few thumps of his tail, and set me down.
Being treated with such care made me feel like a princess or something.
A stray thought roamed into my head: When was the last time somebody treated me this nicely?
It would be an understatement to say that Paz and the other humans were kind. They’d saved me from a life of solitude and drudgery. But we didn’t hang out much. They were rightfully busy with their young children—why would they waste their precious time on a random weirdo like me?
On the other hand, Farr’vye…
“A rip. On your arm.”
His matter-of-fact tone yanked me from my thoughts. I blinked, then glanced down at the spot where he was staring.
Fear jolted me. Through a torn patch in my suit, my bare arm was exposed.
A wave of dizziness made me sway, despite my ass being flat on the ground.
How stupid. I was pathetic.
Farr’vye stared at my exposed arm with burning intensity. Then, as if with great effort, his gaze flicked to my face shield.
“Is that your skin?” Farr’vye asked.
“Y-yeah.”
“It is pale.”
I winced. Nobody had commented on my appearance for years, so his comment brought back old memories. I’d been teased for being as pasty as uncooked dough. For me, being called pale was never a compliment.
So why did Farr’vye’s words sound like one?
“Thanks?” I said, unsure if that was the correct response. Unfortunately, being a linguist didn’t transform me into a master of conversation.
Farr’vye dropped his gaze to my skin again. I tried to pretend I didn’t notice the heat creeping into my cheeks.
Wanting to shrug off the attention, I cleared my throat. “Farr’vye, what about you? You’re hurt.”
He almost seemed annoyed that I pointed it out. He grunted and half-heartedly licked the wounds on his arm. A few seconds went by before I realized I was staring at his long, forked tongue with more interest than I should’ve been.
Maeleons are scary, but… they’re captivating, too.
As the thought crossed my mind, it didn’t feel right. Farr’vye wasn’t scary. He was weird, and yes, a little creepy sometimes. But not scary.
Which was fucking bizarre because I found everything scary.
“What will you do about this?” Farr’vye asked, gesturing to the hole in my arm sleeve with his tentacle. It was scraped and crisscrossed by the thorns.
He’d stopped caring for his wounds already, as if they didn’t matter to him. A knot of frustration balled in my chest. Why was he so focused on me? Why wouldn’t he take care of his damned self first?
“I don’t know, okay? This is the first time this has happened to me,” I blurted.
I’m talking about the suit. Not anything else.
“When something is damaged, you must assess it,” Farr’vye said.
I rolled my eyes behind the shield. “That’s rich, coming from you. You’re still bleeding all over the place!”
Farr’vye’s tail swayed. It wasn’t lashing like an angry cat. More like a curious one.
“I am more concerned about you,” he said. “But if you assess your wounds, then I will do the same.”
“I’m not hurt,” I insisted.
“Emotional wounds hurt, too.”
My jaw dropped.
What the hell did he just say?
For a few long moments, I was too stunned to speak or even move. I hadn’t expected him to cut to my core so succinctly.
I slowly raised my arms and hugged my chest. As I touched the bare skin of one arm, I shuddered, recalling all the years of anxiety over this very moment. Of being exposed. I always knew the suit wouldn’t last forever, even with the best of care, and now it was falling apart.
A long, tired breath escaped me.
“You’re right. I know I have a… problem. In here.” I pointed to my head. “I’m just scared. All the time. I’ve always been like this. And I don’t know how to be anything else.”
Farr’vye watched me intently. He still wasn’t taking care of his wounds.
“Hey,” I growled. “I’m doing my part, so take care of those cuts.”
He looked amused as he ran his tongue over his bloody marks, though he didn’t take his orange eyes off me. I felt like a pinned insect beneath his burning gaze. A somewhat flustered pinned insect.
“What will you do? Remain in the suit?” Farr’vye asked. As he spoke, he raised his tongue to his thick bicep, cleaning the thin bloody lines there. His muscle was as big as my entire head.
“Uh,” I said, trying not to get distracted. “Um… Well, I wanted to.”
“Past tense?”
It shouldn’t have been attractive when he noticed little language things like that, but it was.
I rubbed my arms more tightly. The hole in my sleeve seemed bigger each time I touched it. When I looked down, I noticed other rips and tears along the front of my suit. It took the brunt of the damage from the thorns—and if it hadn’t, I’d look like Farr’vye. Or worse.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve patched it up a thousand times. I don’t know how much more it can take without falling to pieces.”
Farr’vye paused with his tongue mid-swipe across his bicep. He put his arm down. “I will ask a different way. Would you prefer to take the suit off?”
I stiffened. The idea terrified me. But beneath the fear was a mysterious swirl of relief. It felt like Farr’vye was giving me the permission I had never dared to ask for.
A sudden flare of anxiety made me glance over my shoulder. We were alone outside the village in the middle of the night. Nobody was around to see me except Farr’vye. But did I trust him enough to strip?
My pulse quickened, but that wasn’t unusual. I chalked it up to my usual anxiety.
“I… I should probably keep it on,” I mumbled.
“Why?”
I wasn’t used to being challenged. Yet Farr’vye wasn’t being demanding or oppressive. I could tell he genuinely just wanted to know.
“I can’t go back to the village naked,” I explained. “Well, I could. But I don’t want to.”
“We do not have to return immediately. If we remain outside the village, I will protect you.”
Heat rushed to my face. Farr’vye was blunt but patient and compassionate. I’d never met anyone like him.
My skin prickled beneath the suit, warm and oddly sensitive. I hadn’t felt comfortable with another living soul for a long time. So why did I feel comfortable with the idea of stripping in front of this creepy alien?
“I don’t want to be a burden,” I said.
Farr’vye growled. Like, actually growled. I almost jumped, thinking it was a nearby predator, before realizing the sound was coming from his throat.
“You are not a burden,” he countered, his eyes flashing in the darkness. “You are a weak and frail human who I must protect.”
I swallowed. My heart beat faster, as if I were about to have an anxiety attack, except… it was different this time. It felt nice instead of foul, filling my chest with warmth instead of ice.
What was happening to me?