Unless I’d misjudged her again.
But I knew I hadn’t, especially when she threw herself into my arms.
I embraced her tightly, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “Is it all right that it’s here? Or would you rather have it moved?”
“I love that it’s here,” she breathed. She pulled back, beaming at me brightly, even though she’d begun crying again, fat little tears rolling down her face. “Gods, the pregnancy hormones,” she laughed, wiping at them. “Kaldur, it’s…”
She looked back at the painting.
“It’s like a beautiful memory I’d forgotten, a bittersweet one,” she said. “Seeing it again, it’s surreal. It means a lot to me. Not only this painting but that…that you would do this for me.”
I rubbed at the space over my heart again, feeling the muscle contract uncomfortably.
“You told me you had dreams of seeing your storiesthroughout the Kaalium,” I said. “I know that you would get there on your own. But I wanted to help you, if I could.”
I saw the emotion burst in her eyes, a startling brief moment of disbelief and happiness, and she went up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to my lips. As chaste as it was, I took advantage, keeping them captured until her laugh pushed her away.
“I’ve only received a few gifts in my life,” she said, “but this one has to be my favorite.”
My chest swelled with the words.
“And this,” she said, waving her hand back to the painting, looking at it with fresh, disbelieving eyes, “makes it even better.”
I watched her observe the painting. For long moments, she simply traced it with her eyes, as if going over every line and stroke she’d once made with her pencil. I imagined she could still draw every detail from memory.
Then she silently but happily inspected the rest of the room, and I stayed out of her way, content to simply watch from one of the armchairs I’d had placed in the corner. One meant for a Kylorr with wings. Me, specifically, so I might watch her work.
I watched as she fluttered from the shelves of supplies, as if cataloguing every last one. She went to the paper stacks, to the notebooks, running her fingers over the expertly stitched leather, sniffling.
She finally skimmed her fingers over the drafting table, sitting for a brief moment at the stool. It was a good height for her, I decided.
Finally she strayed to the bookshelf on the opposite side, near me and the painting. I’d left it mostly empty, deciding she could fill it with whatever she pleased.
Except…
“Is this your book?” she asked in disbelief, turning to me with wide eyes.
I inclined my head. “You should have it.”
The book I’d shown her in the library, what felt like a lifetimeago. That quiet, peaceful night which had shown me a glimpse of what a future with her could be like. Comfortable, warm, fun. I had liked to please her, to watch her expressions light up in excitement.
“And another one?” she asked, her fingers skimming over the spine. Immediately, she flipped it open, her eyes hungry for the landscapes, of alien places she might never see.
“I found it at a collector’s shop,” I informed her. What I didn’t tell her was that I had our off-planet ambassador searching for more. I would locate them all for her. Another gift for another time.
Next to the books was another Halo orb, with the capabilities of projecting the landscapes for her.
“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” she asked, looking at the Halo orb and then to me. “I had no idea. You’ve been busy. And this was allbeforeyou got attacked by thatlyvinpack.”
“That was my mistake,” I murmured. “I got too impatient.”
She strayed to where I was sitting in the chair. “And you were hungry.”
I grunted. “Like I said, my own mistake.”
“And mine,” she said softly.
“No,” I bit out.
