I can barely stomach the trembling fright in her voice. Her fears, the product of her compassionate heart, profoundly unsettle me. This is her planet and her people, yet she fears it, all because of my presence. A promise slips out of my lips, a pledge to put her mind at ease, one that binds me to her and wraps around my purpose like a chord of iron: “I promise, Leelee.”
Her relief washes over me, a soothing balm to the rawness of my guilt.
Eyes locked with Leelee, my throat tightens, a rush of words crowding for release. But the human language fails me. How do I put into words the depth of my feelings, the vortex of emotions that consume me?
“Ravok…” Leelee’s voice breaks the silence. The way she says my name sounds like a promise, a soft echo bouncing in the vast emptiness that expands inside me. A pregnant silence engulfs us, unsaid words filling the space between us, making the atmosphere simmer with anticipation.
I open my mouth to say… I don’t know what, when Leelee startles, as if woken from a waking dream. “I… um, I came looking for you,” she stammers, blushing. “Lunch is ready… if you’d like to eat.”
At her words, I can only nod, unsure of my voice. As we start walking back to the cabin, I steal glances at Leelee. The sight of her – the rhythm of her walk, the hue of her hair shining in the sun – fills me with awe. I add every tiny observation, every shared glance, into a treasure trove of memories I plan to hoard and cherish, like vital relics of our time together.
CHAPTER 35
Lily
Ravok is acting weird. Well, weirder – I mean, let’s be real, he’s a freaking alien. Honestly, what I define as weird has drastically changed over the last few days.
Despite Ravok’s seeming preoccupation with his meal, I can feel the weight of his gaze on me each time I look away from him. I wish I knew what was going through his strange alien mind. He doesn’t seem mad or upset, but something is clearly weighing on him. Perhaps he is just worried about the state of his ship, and I am writing silly, hopeful stories in my head. Although the intensity of his gaze is making it hard to concentrate on my lunch.
It’s amusing and also flattering to watch Ravok treat my plain-Jane chili as though it’s a rare delicacy. He shovels it into his mouth like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have, or as if it might sprout legs and make a run for it. If he’s not stealing glances at me, he is focused unwaveringly, his stark white eyes zeroing in on every chunky, tomato-rich spoonful.
Needing to break the silence, I drop my spoon into my still mostly full bowl and turn to Ravok. “So, I was thinking that I could clean the garage after we finish our chili. I can’t really help with your ship’s electronics, but I can make the space you’re working in not so unpleasant,” I propose, doing an arguably poor job of hiding my real desire. If I’m honest, I’m just looking for an excuse to spend as much time with Ravok before he inevitably leaves my planet behind as I can.
He stops mid-chew, those white eyes bright as they meet mine, setting my heart pumping to a galloping rhythm. He grunts in agreement, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth – pleased with my offer, I think.
I pick up my spoon and force myself to eat – I get low blood sugar sometimes and don’t want to risk getting woozy later. As we eat, a satisfying air of contentment hangs between us. Once we’re done eating, I start to gather up the dishes. Ravok jumps up, rushing to assist.
I can’t help but enjoy the feeling of domesticity humming between us. There’s such simplicity and familiarity in the process of cleaning up together. As Ravok stacks the dirty plates and bowls, I put the leftovers into Tupperware. Then together, we rinse and put the dishes into the tiny, ancient dishwasher. Then I hand wash the few pots that won’t fit into the machine. I smile to myself as I watch Ravok dry the pot. We are a strange couple – a human woman and an alien – doing the dishes, just as any other couple would after a shared meal. I know I’m writing stories in my head, but I can’t help myself. I’ve never needed the big grand gestures of love – I revel in the small stuff, in the shared domesticity and small, thoughtful actions. I’d much rather have a guy pay attention to the brand of coffee I like than buy me something expensive that I don’t need.
Once we finish clean-up, Ravok heads to the garage, eager to get back to work on his spaceship. I watch him go, the roombecoming a tad bit lonelier in his absence. I start hunting for cleaning supplies.
Armed with a bucket of warm water and my gathering of supplies, I make my way out to the garage. The day has subtly transitioned towards the afternoon, the sun hot and high in the sky, radiating stuffy warmth into our makeshift workshop.
As I step into the garage, I find Ravok standing bare-chested, his hoodie lying crumpled on a nearby workbench. Thankfully, his back is to me so he can’t witness the ravenous look on my face. The muscles beneath his silvery skin ripple and flex as he hovers over a panel of his spaceship, deep in concentration. His exposed torso glistens with a slight sheen of sweat under the glare of the lone lightbulb hanging overhead. The musty air is tinged with a hint of the electrifyingly unique aroma that is purely Ravok. Heat swarms through my lungs that isn’t just from the hot, stuffy garage.
Ravok turns and smiles as I set down all my supplies. “Do you want some help?”
“Nah, you concentrate on your ship while I deal with the dust. If I get in your way, just let me know.”
“You’re never in the way, Leelee,” Ravok says. I have to blink several times because his words almost make tears well up in my eyes. These are the sorts of sentiments I always wanted from Marcus but never got after the initial honeymoon phase. Why do I have to meet the kind of guy I always wanted and he’s leaving the planet soon?
After giving Ravok a wide grin so he won’t realize I’m feeling emotional, I turn away and open all the windows to create a breeze. Then I get to work. I decide to get rid of the dust first, then deal with the rest.
The first time our shoulders brush against one another, an electrifying shock zips through my body. I pretend not to notice as every nerve in my body comes alive. Ravok continues his task,focused on some rusty tool he’s dug out of a toolbox’s depths. My heart thunders in my chest, and against my better judgment, I yearn for another accidental touch, another spark.
Despite my best efforts to keep it settled, the dust I’m kicking up dances around us in the narrow beams of sunlight filtering in through the dirty windows. I wipe a layer of grime off an old workbench with a rag, releasing a musty scent that makes me want to sneeze.
The garage feels much smaller than it is, and Ravok seems to take up every bit of space. Each time we brush past the other, the touch tightens the coils of desire and need inside me. This is like a delicious kind of torture.
We are like two opposite poles of a magnet, the attraction between us an unseen, undeniable force. I can’t shake this strange feeling nor bring myself to confront it. One thing is clear, though – our dance of accidental brushes and lingering glances is leading us down a road that will end in only one way. There’s no way Ravok’s not aware of the sexual tension that is as thick in the air as the stifling heat.
We spend hours in this dance – the soft touches, the aborted glances. I watch enraptured as Ravok works on his spaceship, his metallic skin glistening in the faint light leaking through the now-clean windows. His eyes are lit with intense focus, the glow eerily beautiful, and the muscles on his rugged arms flex in sync with each precise movement. The room buzzes with a charged atmosphere, a delicious tension brewing between us, and for a fleeting moment, I revel in anticipation. I’d forgotten what it felt like – the charged feeling of truly wanting someone and being wanted in return.
Suddenly, Ravok lets out a noise of vexation, pulling me out of my imaginings. The deep sound rumbles through the room, causing my heart to lurch. I quickly shake off my reverie, approaching him with a concerned look. His strong browsfurrow in evident frustration as he straightens up, his gaze fixated on something in his hands. Sitting on his open palm is a sharp metal fragment with a rainbow sheen that reminds me of an oversized computer chip.
“What’s wrong, Ravok?”
My voice seems to break his trance, his glowing gaze shifting to meet mine. “Leelee,” he begins, his voice deep and edged with worry, “I need telrinite… It’s an alloy that I need to repair some damaged components in my ship.”
