I am overwhelmingly grateful, but even still…
“In the morning? I really need to go now. My dad will be worried about me.”
“It’s very late in the night cycle now. I must insist you wait just a few hours ‘til morning. I don’t like the idea of you wandering the dark corridors alone.”
The public halls and corridors are lit by artificial daylight and dimmed at night. That is one thing the orientation videos taught me, anyways. And I don’t much want to try to find my way home in the dark, either. The Orientation Video went on and on about how safe this place is, but I am not an idiot either. I am worried about my dad, though. Is he freaking out yet? Urzu must see my concern.
“At first light, Khur will walk you home. Until then try and get some rest.”
“Do you have maybe a nightgown or a big T-shirt? I really need to go to the bathroom.”
“Humans really are prudes, huh?” Furga asks me.
I sputter.
“What! No! We just aren’t big on nudity!”
“Don’t mind Furga, dear. Most species are modest with their nudity. Dhugarens are the odd ones in that respect.” Urzu is a calm, steady presence as she pulls a tunic out of a cabinet hidden in the wall. “Here. It’s big, but it’s soft. This should do.”
The tunic falls almost to my knees and the neckline gapes enough to slip down my shoulder, but it covers all the important bits. Urzu and Furga are polite enough to look elsewhere while I slip it on. It really is so soft, and it smells like the mountain did: clean, fresh, a little pine-y. Then I realize that this must be Khur’s tunic, and his smells, since this is his room. And Urzu is his sister, not his wife. Not that I care if he has a wife, because he is analienand seems kind of like an asshole. No matter how good he smells or how beautiful his eyes are, I can’t think about him that way. As aman. I’m not quite that adventurous…am I?
I sneak down the hall to use their lavatory, avoiding the common area and the Dhugaren male presumably sleeping on a cot out there. By the time I return to the bedroom I am exhausted again. I didn’t realize how much almost freezing to death would take out of me. Snuggling into the warm blankets, I’m asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
I’m awoken some time later by a terrible sound. Somewhere between a growl and a groan, it sounds like someone is in pain. Before I can thinktwice, my legs are swinging over the side of the bed and I’m making my way down the hall.
All these apartments seem to be set up the same. The common room is the main “body” of the apartment, and the living quarters and lavatory and kitchen are all placed down hallways connected to it, like legs. My feet pad silently on the cold metal floor as I make my way down the dim hallway and into the common area.
I hadn’t gotten a chance to see it before, being unconscious and all. Now, even with the lights dimmed, I can see Urzu has taken care to decorate the apartment with lovely blue blankets draped over furniture, and a massive silvery-gray rug laid in the middle of the room. On that rug, next to a sofa-type piece of furniture that does not look very comfortable, lay a cot, and on the cot, thrashes a sleeping Khur.
He is having a nightmare. His head shakes back and forth, his hands squeezing the blankets fiercely in his fist. Another painful groan comes from him and then my babelfish picks up muttered words.
“No… no… go back. Turn around. No!”
I rush over to his side without another thought. I can’t stand to see anyone suffering, and this male did save my life. This is the least I could do. I gently put my hand to his shoulder.
“Khur. It’s just a nightmare. Wake up. It’s ok.”
Dark brown eyes open at the same moment a clawed hand circles my wrist. His eyes are blank, though, and I get the feeling he isn’t quite out of the dream yet.
“It’s Destiny. I’m here. It’s ok.” I keep talking in a low, calm voice and inwardly pray he doesn't shred me with those massive claw-tipped hands. The one around my wrist holds me like I’m no bigger than a twig. One twitch and he could break my wrist. For some ridiculousreason, though, I don’t think he will. My survival instincts must be on the fritz because for some reason I kneel down and use my free hand to stroke the soft white hair out of his face.
The main circle of his face, from his brow to his chin and across his cheekbones, is not covered in fur. Instead he has deep black skin that's silky soft but still unbelievably warm. As I brush the hair away he leans into my hand and closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. We stay like this for what could have only been a few seconds, but it feels like such a long time. An eternity of him nuzzling into my palm. It feels entirely too good, too right. I pull my hand back suddenly as his head turns and warm breath tickles my palm–and something else warm stirs low in my belly.
Khur’s eyes pop open immediately, looking at me warily.
“You were having a nightmare,” I whisper into the darkness. His eyes are dark pits I could fall into. I lean back to escape their depths.
He nods, still not speaking, then swings his legs around to sit up, but doesn’t move to stand. Instead he pats the spot next to him on the bed and not knowing what else to do, I sit next to him, our legs almost touching.
“Thank you,” he finally says, voice even coarser than normal with sleep clogging his throat, “for waking me up.”
“Do you…wanna talk about it?”
“Why?”
“Talking it out helps sometimes. Makes the nightmares feel less real.”
“These were real.”
