Chapter 3
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Zalantha
No sooner had the sun pierced through Lyra”s curtains and lit up her slender face than my heart filled with absolute anxiety and apprehension, a sense of belonging seeping into my soul.
I gazed at her as she slept calmly, but knew she was far from at peace. Observing her the previous day had given me plenty to work with. She certainly had a way with people, a gift she needed to turn into something greater.
If I took her down the right path, I could embellish her skills and help more people to pure freedom. But first, she had to work out her issues.
I scanned her chest rising and falling under the sheets and wondered what she was dreaming about. She looked so innocent and unaware of the problem trapping her. But that was why I had come to assist in this quest for eternal freedom.
Lyra stirred as brighter sunlight peered through her curtains. It was morning in Los Angeles, time to start another day, and I”d be by her side the whole time, watching, waiting for that moment to show myself to her.
But I had to be patient. Lyra would be petrified when she saw me. Being greeted by a tall, muscular alien with a purple tinge would surely freak her out. Eventually, she would calm down and come around to my existence, especially when I convinced her how I could ease her pain and suffering.
Her lips twitched, and desire raced through my heart. I pictured leaning over her, placing my mouth on hers, tasting her human flavor, but that was not how to introduce myself.
I had to wait for the perfect moment.
The alarm on her cell rang. With her eyes shut, she leaned to her bedside table, turned it off, and rolled on her side, slipping back to sleep.
What was she doing? She had to get up and face the day. She had several appointments with needy families.
Perhaps she shouldn”t have had that third glass of wine.
Perhaps she shouldn”t have even opened the bottle.
I had to kick-start her day again. I moved closer, my heart racing. I studied her face, illuminated by the soft morning light streaming through the curtains. The delicate lines of tranquility graced her features as she slumbered peacefully, blissfully unaware of the world around her.
Yearning to see her eyes in the daylight, I gently blew a wisp of air across her face. She stirred, her delicate fingers fluttering in the air, attempting to swat away an invisible disturbance.
I blew harder, and her hand flicked up, accidentally hitting herself in the face.
I almost splutted a laugh but managed to control myself.
”The hell is that?” she said, her eyes flinging open.
Anxiety pulsed in my chest. For a second, I thought Lyra could see me. Our eyes locked in an intense gaze, and it was as if we were looking at each other, but then she reached over and grabbed her cell.
”Better get up,” she said, yanking back her sheets.
My eyes widened with desire, and my dick hardened. Her tight white vest top and tiny lacy blue panties left very little to my imagination. Damn, she was fine. Her luscious, curvy body was in great shape, and the way she ruffled her long blond hair made my balls tingle.
She sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her head.
”That was not only one drink,” she muttered as she got up and stretched.
A smirk appeared on my lips as her top crept up, revealing the base of her round breasts. I watched in awe as she swayed towards the bathroom, wiggling her almost bare bottom.
She elbowed the door open and whipped down her panties as she sat on the toilet to pee.
”My mouth feels as dry as a crusty hand towel dipped in sand,” she said, rubbing her face and licking her lips.
Finding it hard not to laugh, I held my hand over my mouth; she certainly had a way with words.
After her morning business, she stood up and began brushing her teeth, moving her hips from side to side. I stared at her ass, and excitement thrashed through my body. I was here to help Lyra, though. I couldn”t get distracted by the sexual thoughts racing through my mind.
Once she”d finished cleaning her teeth, she turned and paced back into her room.
”Water, lots of water,” she muttered before grabbing the glass on her bedside table. ”That”s better,” she said, gasping as she glanced in the mirror. ”Time to wake the fuck up and face the day.”
She put some dance music on her cell, dressed in tightly fitted lilac gym shorts and top, and jogged into her lounge.
As she worked out with a series of dumbbell exercises, I watched eagerly, noticing how she was pushing herself to exertion. At the end of each set, she looked in pain, driving herself to the max. I admired her efforts, but I knew that all she was doing was burning the alcohol off from last night. If she really wanted to make a difference, build muscle, and get lean, she had to be completely dry.
”Hell yeah,” she said, punching the air after her last set. ”Time for a shower.”
She dashed into the bathroom, and I resisted the urge to watch her get naked and soapy wet. I had control. Besides, there would be plenty of time to see her without clothes.
As I waited outside patiently, my mind was momentarily transported back to Mesoterra, the torturous planet I had escaped from. The recollection unfurled vivid images of that beautifully horrible world, a place bathed in an otherworldly glow with a hazy, lilac-tinted sky that stretched endlessly.
Mesoterra”s landscape was a mesmerizing blend of vibrant flora, each plant pulsating with bioluminescent hues, casting an ethereal glow across the terrain. It was a stunning sight, but the trouble was the unlawful, treacherous acts that happened there.
As Lyra sang softly from the shower, I recalled the challenge of escaping Mesoterra. Flashes of my final day played out in my mind like a haunting film. The tension in the air, the oppressive weight of Mesothraxius”s presence, the hordes of Mesothraxians chasing me - these memories elicited a shiver.
I had been on the brink of capture again, the stakes were unbearably high, but through cunning maneuvers, I managed to elude their clutches and evade certain doom, escaping abroad a spaceship I had stolen. That vehicle had helped me get to Earth, and it was hidden in a secret location nearby.
My escape had been a testament to resourcefulness and quick thinking, but the prospect of them finding me again loomed at the back of my mind. I wasn”t completely safe, not yet, anyway.
”That”s better,” said Lyra, appearing in a towel wrapped around her body.
She had a new spring in her step and was singing to herself: such sweet sounds. Flinging the towel on her bed, she dressed in fresh beige panties and a matching bra. Then she turned to the mirror and grabbed her thighs.
”You need to work on these,” she said, sucking in her belly. ”And that,” she added, poking herself in the tummy.
After she”d squeezed into a pair of tight jeans and a loosely fitting lilac blouse, she darted into the kitchen.
I admired Lyra as she made a coffee-flavoured protein shake and dipped in a banana. Part of me wished I could appear and ask her whether she enjoying sampling fruits of that shape and form, but I refrained. I had to keep focused. Besides, she had a busy schedule ahead of her.
But then something unexpected happened.
”Who”s there?” she asked, horror on her face. I glanced down at myself. Surely Lyra couldn”t see me, but after watching her eat, work out, get dressed and eat a banana in such an erotic way, perhaps my aroused scent was filling the air. ”Is someone perving on me?”
I so wanted to say who was with her: Zalantha, recently escaped from Mesoterra, ready to show her the way, the light, and get her on that path to freedom.
But I resisted.
”The hell is going on?” she asked, inhaling deeply. Maybe she couldn”t see me, but perhaps she could smell me. She shuffled on her feet, clenching her thighs together. ”Weird,” she said, throwing the banana peel in the bin.
After she went for a final pee, she opened the door and walked out. I followed behind, impressed with her transformation. Now Lyra was fully functioning. No one would have guessed that she had a hangover when she woke up and had three glasses of wine the previous night.
But no one had to know, did they?
I looked forward to following her that day, seeing who she tried to help, and observing how long she would last before that first drink took her back on that path of dependency, and she did it all again, even though, deep down, she didn”t really want to.