Dani
I lay on my back in the dark for an hour, staring at the ceiling and listening to the particular silence of Andrek’s estate at night.
Different from city silence and the white-noise hum of the apartment I’d lived in on Earth.
Out here on the frontier, the dark had texture.
Things moved in it. The moons threw their double shadows through my window and danced across the floor in overlapping bars.
I’d taken a cold shower, delighted to discover the shower head detached and brought me to orgasm faster than my fingers. Despite the relief I felt from release and from the shower, my body hummed.
At some point I gave up looking at the ceiling and got up.
The corridor was quiet. Through Pip’s closed door I heard the soft sounds of her snoring. Andrek’s door was also closed, but when I passed it, I swore I heard him breathing heavily and my name in a whisper.
I went to the kitchen first, out of habit, and stood in front of the cold cabinet for a while before deciding I wanted nothing from it. Then I pulled on the light jacket I’d left on the hook by the door and went outside.
The overlook was a wide stone platform on the eastern edge of the estate’s upper level, bordered by a low wall and open to the sky on three sides. It became one of my favorite places in a quiet, private way.
I stifled a gasp, because standing with his wings spread, but not fully outstretched, stood Andrek.
I almost stopped at the doorway. The rational part of me made a serious case for going back inside.
Instead, I walked to the wall and stood a few feet away from him, looking out over the darkness. The moons were enormous tonight, a dual twilight over the landscape that made everything look like a painting of itself.
He didn’t startle when I arrived. “Pip?”
“She’s fine. Asleep and snoring,” I said.
“When she’s older, she’s going to deny she snores.”
“I know. No one likes to admit it.” The night air was cool enough that I was glad for the jacket, a dry, clean cold that smelled like mineral earth. “You couldn’t sleep either?” I asked.
“I don’t sleep much,” he said. “I never have. The service made it worse.”
“Worse how?”
“You learn to sleep in short intervals in case you get called up. Once you’re out, and there’s no longer anything to surface for, the habit remains.”
“Sounds lonely.”
“Most of it was, but I chose it.” He said it without self-pity. “Long routes are not conducive to something or anything you’d want to sustain.”
“Did you try?”
“Once or twice. The work made it difficult with months away, and there’s always the possibility of not returning.” He glanced at me, then back at the moons. “And I was not easy to be with. I’ve been told I’m… precise.”
A smile teased on my lips. “I’ve noticed.”
“Is that a criticism?”
“It’s an observation,” I said.
“What about you?” he asked.
“What about me?”
“You left Earth and its sectors. It’s not easy leaving a life behind.”
I leaned my arms on the low wall and looked out at the dark.
“No, it’s not, but I didn’t have that much to leave,” I said.
“The apartment I lived in smelled like a recycling unit. I had a job, and a handful of people I thought were my friends. But ever since I was little I couldn’t shake this feeling. ”
“Feeling?”
“Like I was waiting for my life to begin. That there was something I was supposed to be doing that I hadn’t found yet.” I paused. “When your offer came, it felt less like an opportunity and more like a door I’d been standing in front of for years and hadn’t tried.”
“Do you regret it?” he asked.
“No. Not in the least. Being here is the best thing I’ve ever done.”
We talked for a long time after that. He talked about his years in service in a way he hadn’t before.
“That’s when I left. After Yxia, I served my contract.
I had the option to extend and I looked at the extension paperwork and I thought,” he stopped.
“I don't know what I thought. I thought I was tired.”
“Were you?”
“Yes. And other things. I think I didn’t know what else to do, and that seemed like a reason to stay. And then Pip was with me, and she needed a home, not a ship or a base.”
“Have you?” I asked. “Learned to make a home?”
“I think I’m learning,” he said, but he didn’t look at me when he said it.
The cool air moved between us. The jacket did its best, but the cold settled in my bones. I wrapped my arms around myself.
“For what it’s worth, I’ve never felt safer,” I said, “than here.”
He looked at me then.
“I feel safe in your home and with you,” I clarified. “I never left Earth, but I saw things and I talked to people. This is the first place I’ve been that feels like something I don’t want to leave.”
Andrek was very still.
“Dani,” he whispered.
I didn’t trust myself to answer.
Then his wing moved in slow motion as the great dark expanse of it curved, until the outer edge came to rest around my shoulders, pulling me into his touch. He was warmer than I expected, and the weight softer than it looked.
I stopped shivering from the cold. I leaned into his warmth, pressing my shoulder against the inner edge of his wing, my face turned away from him toward the moons.
For a few minutes I just breathed.
And then I thought about the discoloration on his wrists where the odd marks that crossed his body weren’t anymore.
And then I thought about the way he’d gone silent when I asked in a round-about way about a mate.
And then I internally berated myself. You don’t know what you’re doing.
He’s still carrying something you can’t see and like an idiot you’re leaning into his wing in the dark because you can’t sleep.
Feelings in the dark at two in the morning are not reliable.
Don’t be the person who complicates his grief.
I straightened. “I should probably try to sleep,” I said, my voice huskier than normal.
“Of course,” he said.
I looked at him then. I shouldn’t have, but I did. He watched me with a confused expression written all over his face.
My heart did something complicated.
“Goodnight, Andrek.”
“Goodnight, Dani.”
I turned and took a step toward the door.
“Dani?” I turned, and Andrek stood in front of me. “I don’t know if this is the right thing or wrong thing, but I can’t help myself.”
He cupped my face with both his hands, wings wrapping around me, as he lowered his lips to mine.
He kissed me with pent up passion, holding me as if I were made of glass as his lips claimed mine.
His tongue slid into my mouth, and I gasped at the ridged sensation.
What else is ridged? My hands ran across his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle.
I moaned in his mouth and leaned into him.
His knee parted my legs, and I ground myself on his thigh.
“Dani,” he choked out, breaking the kiss. “I want you so much it hurts.” His wings tucked against his back and he raced inside the house.
I stood outside another minute, my body on fire from his touch. I blinked and headed inside to my room. I stripped naked, lay on the bed, spread my legs and rubbed myself to orgasm. Afterwards, I pulled the blanket over my body and willed myself to sleep.
Through the wall, I had the distinct sense that he wasn’t sleeping either.
The distance between us was a wall’s width and uncrossable tonight.