“Candles?” she blurted, surprised when he lit the old-school wax rods, their golden light flickering warm and bright in his eyes, as if they contained animated fireflies.
“You don’t like them?”
“No, I love them. It’s just, I expected some spiffy, high-tech lighting source, not candles.”
He chuckled. “I suppose you could call me a throw-back in this indulgence. We normally save candles for special ceremonies, but what can I say? I just like them more. Out here, reveling in the wonders of nature, the light feels more, I don’t know.Right, if that makes sense. It is the old way, I know. But so much more pleasant on the eyes and warming to the soul.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” she said, the marvelous blend of aromas rising to her nose as her gracious host began opening the containers. “Oh, man. What did you bring? That smells incredible.”
He flashed a happy grin, placing several containers in front of her. “Sample them all, and I will tell you.”
“A guided culinary tour?”
“If you wish to call it that.”
Ella reached into his pack from earlier and pulled out the lone nearly full bottle of wine they had only barely imbibed earlier. “Shall we? It’s already open.”
“I think that would be perfect.”
She happily took charge of wine duty, pouring them each a tall glass, his a bit fuller than hers. He was bigger, after all, she reasoned. Draikis lifted his glass.
“A toast, as you say. To my fascinating human friend. May your days be long and your nights warm.”
The way he looked at her as he spoke made Ella’s heart nearly melt in her chest. That, and kindled a small blaze low in her belly.
“To us,” she added, the heat in her chest growing even before she took her first sip. “To the most wonderful man who makes what happened to me seem worth it.”
Shit, too much, she realized, suddenly self-conscious, glad he would at least not see her blush in the dim light.
“I am honored,” he replied, his eyes glistening.
They clinked glasses, each draining more of the wine than perhaps intended in their moment of sudden discomfiture.
The wine hit quickly, easing their jitters, and in no time they had slid back into their comfortable homeostasis, simply enjoying one another’s presence, leaning against each other high above the judgmental brothers in the structure below, enjoying the shared warmth as well as the little sense of getting away with something in public, tame as it was.
They ate, drank, and talked for hours, time flying, as it often did when they were together, their discussion going deeper than usual, perhaps aided a little by the wine, the bottle quite empty by the time Draikis noted the time.
“We should be heading in,” he said, gathering up the dishes and tucking them into his pack. “It’s getting late.”
Ella felt a little pang of disappointment, wanting to extend their time any way possible. “Okay,” she reluctantly agreed. “But what about that poetry book you offered?”
“I only have this one on me. The second volume is in my quarters. I can get it for you.”
“You don’t have to make an extra trip for me. I’ll just come with you.”
He paused, an electric charge heavy in the air.
Draikis shifted, his energy palpable. “I, uh…”
“Come on. Let’s go,” she bubbled, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.
An awkward silence fell over them as they moved through the corridors, the invisible energy drawing them to each other pulling hard. It was all they could do to keep their distance, well aware there might be prying eyes around any corner. The distancing turned out to be wise, several of the resident priests passing them on their walk, flashing disapproving glances at the woman in their midst.
The negativity may have been acute, but it washed right off the duo, utterly incapable of piercing the bubble of positive connection crackling between them, fueled by closeness and their blossoming Infalas. Their hands grazed as they walked, a shock that was most definitely not static jolting them with each contact. By the time they reached his nondescript door, both were tingling with unfamiliar and nearly overwhelming sensations coursing through their bodies.
Draikis opened the door and crossed the threshold. “This is me,” he said, looking back at the woman who had made him feel like no other ever had. Who had somehow broken the blocks placed on his Infala. Who had made him doubt his very vows. The woman standing just outside his home.
He realized that while he’d been in her quarters on many occasions, it had happened organically. He was her caregiver,after all, bringing her food, tending her needs. When she transitioned from needing constant attention, it had been natural that he would still visit her in her own space. But this? This washisrealm. A place no woman had ever set foot.
