Nubbins eagerly devours it, his antennas flickering with luminescent delight. Raf’ere reaches behind him, retrieving a nearby throw blanket. Cocooning Nubbins snugly within it, he secures the excess fabric beneath the plumpness of the space puppy’s butt. Nubbins, all warm and tucked in, is the cutest little burrito I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
The heartwarming scene causes a tightness in my chest. To see him be so sweet to the little animal he pretends he’s indifferent to makes me swoon a little.
Raf’ere’s typically stern tone softens as he whispers what I assume are sweet nothings to the space puppy. He leans in close and tenderly scratches behind Nubbins’s ear. The animal nuzzles the scarred side of his face, getting a few licks in.
Overwhelmed by the sweetness of the moment, I instinctively cover my mouth to stifle an audible, “Awww.”
My attempts at stealth prove futile as Raf’ere’s eyes dart toward me. Surprise briefly flashes across his face before he swiftly rises, smoothing his hands over his suit to compose himself.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I stumble over my words, a pang of guilt washing over me.
“Interrupt what?” he responds, attempting to downplay his affection for the little kahne’ah. But I refuse to let him brush it off.
Walking toward Nubbins’ armchair, I gesture dramatically to the slumbering space puppy emitting loud snores.
“Oh, that.” Raf’ere’s expression falters, his mouth is turned down as he avoids my gaze. “It’s nothing.”
“Suuurrre it is.” I roll my eyes and pat Nubbins’s soft fur, feeling his warmth against my palm, before sinking into the plush sofa nearby.
“I mean, you literally tucked him into bed—youlovehim, admit it. I mean, how could you not? He’s perfect!” I gaze adoringly at the puppy.
“Yes, perfect,” he says, his eyes focused intently on me. There’s a heat in his gaze, a magnetic pull that threatens to consume us both. But before it can lead to anything, a loud crash in the hallway shatters the tranquility of the moment.
We both turn our heads swiftly toward the chamber doors, where the sound echoes. It sounds like someone has thrown a bunch of plates against the floor.
Raf’ere takes a single step toward the door, his interest piqued. But when a chorus of feminine giggles follows, he moves on quickly. However, I still want to know more.
“What was that?” I tilt my head towards the doors, my curiosity getting the best of me.
“Staff must have dropped something on their way to the kitchen,” the duke dismissively explains, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance.
Exhausted, he flops onto the plush bed, the mattress sinking beneath him. I can faintly hear his fingers tapping on the data pad, creating soft electronic chirps that fill the air. I stand up and make my way toward him, my feet padding on the stone floor. With a seductive smile on my lips, I crawl into bed beside him, feeling the crisp sheets cool against my bare skin.
“Do you think you could introduce me to the staff?” I ask, attempting to sound alluring.
He scoffs, his voice laced with amusement. “Thank goddess you’re not in charge of negotiations. Your intentions are as clear as day.”
Undeterred, I widen my smile. “What’s there to negotiate? You trust me, I trust you. Introduce me to the staff, simple as that.” I like Raf’ere, and I’m obsessed with Nubbins, but I refuse to accept they’re all that’s here for me in this world.
His gaze remains fixed on the data pad as he nonchalantly replies, “We have an appointment tomorrow.”
Confused, I frown. “An appointment?”
He smirks. “With a tailor, so you can have clothes of you very own to destroy.”
“Do I get to choose what the tailor makes for me?” I ask, excitement clear in my voice. He glances up from his data pad and meets my gaze.
“Within reason,” he replies, his tone matter-of-fact.
I can’t help but imagine this new person I’ll get to meet. A surge of anticipation fills me, and I roll my head back onto the soft pillow, tightly closing my eyes.
Is it strange that I’m eager to go to sleep earlier than usual, hoping to hasten tomorrow? It reminds me of being a child on Christmas Eve, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus, or in this case, a tailor.
“What are you doing?” he asks, breaking my reverie.
I open my eyes and meet his gaze, my voice filled with excitement. “Trying to make tomorrow come quicker.”
He sighs, his hand reaching over me to pull on the blanket, tucking the excess fabric under my bottom.
