"I warned you," she manages between giggles.
"You said 'quite spicy.'" My voice comes out hoarse and ravaged. "That was not 'quite spicy.' That was a war crime."
She laughs harder, and I find myself laughing too, even though my mouth is still on fire. Worth it. Completely worth it.
"Your face," she gasps. "The expression on your?—"
"I'm glad my suffering brings you joy."
"It does." She grins at me, utterly unrepentant. "It truly does."
I drain the rest of my soda and reach across the table and steal her verak nectar, downing half of it before she can protest. It's sweet and tart and blessedly cool on my scorched tongue. "I take back every nice thing I said. You're clearly evil."
"And yet you like me anyway."
"Yeah," I say, and I let the word carry more weight than a joke. "I really do."
The laughter in her eyes shift. She reaches across the table and brushes her fingers along the back of my hand – a brief touch, there and gone.
"I like you too, Cody. Very much."
For a moment, neither of us speaks. I think I could happily stay in this moment forever.
But I also want to know her better. All of her. Not only who she is now, but who she was before.
"I was worried," I admit, before I can talk myself out of honesty. "About you coming here. To Ceraste, I mean."
A'Vanti's expression shifts, caution flickering behind her eyes. "You thought it would be too difficult for me."
"No, you're too strong for that. But… I thought it might be very painful. And it has been. I've seen it. The way you look at everything here, like you're seeing ghosts." I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table. "But that's not all I've seen. The way you talk about the future here, about what needs to be done to make Ceraste livable again. You're not just surviving here, A'Vanti. You're… I don't know. Coming alive."
She's quiet for a long moment, her gaze drifting across the facility and to the desert beyond.
"It is strange," she says finally. "I expected only grief. And there is grief, so much of it that some moments I think I might drown in it. But there is also…" She pauses, searching for the word. "Purpose. We're going to rebuild, maybe even make something new."
"New life rising from the ashes," I say.
Her eyes snap back to mine
"The phoenix," she murmurs.
"That's what you remind me of, you know." The words come out before I can censor myself. "Watching you here. What you endured would have destroyed most people. But instead, you're rising from it. Stronger and even more beautiful."
The flush that spreads across her throat scales is deeply satisfying.
"You are…" She shakes her head, but she's smiling. "You are something else, Cody Johnson."
"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment."
"It was intended as one."
The Cerastean sky is beginning its slow shift from pale lavender to deeper shades of violet and rose. It's beautiful in a stark, haunting way. Like everything on this planet.
"Can I ask you something?" I venture.
"Of course."
"What was your life like? Before…" I gesture vaguely, unwilling to name the horrors directly. "Before everything. Back when you lived here."
