Curious, I peek through the front panel, fogged just enough to hide me. Not knowing what he’s up to is maddening—but I don’t dare adjust the transparency. He crouches… brings something to his mouth? I jerk back as he turns. Crap. I think he saw me.
A few minutes later, he walks inside and inspects the wall near the front door. He searches left—when the hand sensor is on the right. Strange.
Then, a hidden keypad lights up where he touches. What the—? I’ve lived here for years and had no idea that even existed!
He taps rapidly, and strange symbols flash across the wall.
“What are you doing?” I demand, a mix of annoyance and bruised pride.
He ignores me completely, focused on whatever he’s hacking. I know he doesn’t understand French, but the tone alone should’ve told him I’m pissed.
When the panel vanishes again, perfectly flush, I wouldn’t know it was ever there. He looks pleased with himself.
Without a word, still wearing only the towel, he heads for my room—and the bathroom. A shower, I assume.
I grumble in the kitchen, stewing in frustration. This language barrier is unbearable. I have no idea how he can stay so calm, so at ease in a place full of strangers. Like he belongs here more than I do.
Then it hits me—the water’s still running. Way longer than the standard limit.
That little bastard. He bypassed the timer.
Furious, I storm toward the bathroom. This isn’t his house—it’s mine. And here, we follow the rules. We don’t waste resources. If he doesn’t like it, he can try his luck at the Palace.
I fling the door open, fuming… and stop dead.
Prax is standing under the spray, completely naked. And yes, I know—of course he’s naked. It’s a shower. Still, I wasn’t ready.
He turns slowly, eyes glowing like molten gold, locking onto mine. I freeze. Trapped. Like prey under the gaze of a predator.
He says nothing, just stares—then his hand moves, lazily stroking himself. My eyes drop, drawn against my will. My mouth goes dry.
He’s aroused. And he’s not hiding it.
“You’re welcome to join me,” he rumbles.
The spell breaks. I stumble back, heart racing.
“You… You can talk?!”
“Yup. Either hop in, or give me a minute to finish on my own. Unless you’d rather stay and watch?”
Mortified, I spin around and flee to the kitchen, cheeks burning.
Traitor. Pervert. Bastard.
And maybe—just maybe—I regret slamming that door so fast.
9-Prax
I watch Neela dart out of the washroom without even glancing back. Too bad. I would've preferred her to own up to her desire instead of running away like that. There's no way she could've hidden how she felt just moments ago. She liked what she saw. Her pupils were dilated, her breath shallow, her cheeks flushed... And that scent? She was dying for it, plain and simple. That’s why I invited her to join me—figured it was worth breaking my silence.
Alas, humans seem strangely uptight when it comes to basic needs. Or maybe it’s just her?
On Sadjim, my home planet, there’s no shame in survival instincts. Hunt, kill, and eat your prey. Groom your fur multiple times a day so it doesn’t get matted or infested with bacteria. Have sex when the opportunity arises or the mood strikes.
Eat, bathe, mate. Nothing indecent about any of it. And yet, every one of those topics seems to rattle my Purrsong little Human.
Oh well. I calmly finish what I started, letting off some of the tension coiled in my body. The memory of her hungry gaze trailing over me helps immensely. I get relief within seconds.
