He turned then, and she saw the storm in his eyes. Emotions she couldn’t name warred across his face. He looked at her like she was something dangerous.
“You’ve been alone your whole life,” he said. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for. What it means.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” He stopped. Exhaled slowly. When he spoke again, his voice was more controlled, but she could hear the strain beneath the surface. “I need to go.”
Her stomach dropped. “Go? Where?”
“Outside. To check the perimeter and make sure there’s nothing dangerous in the area.”
It was an excuse. She could see that clearly, even with her limited experience reading people. He was running away from her and from what had just happened between them.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.
“No.” The word came out too quickly, too forcefully. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, some of the tension had left his shoulders. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Liora. The kiss was—” He stopped, seemed to struggle with himself. “It wasn’t wrong. But I need some time to think. And I need to make sure the area around the tower is safe.”
“Will you come back?”
The question hung in the air between them. She watched him wrestle with it, watched the answer form on his face before he spoke it.
“Yes,” he said. “Tonight. I’ll come back tonight.”
Something eased in her chest. He was leaving, but not forever. She hadn’t ruined everything. He just needed time. She could understand that. She often needed time after her experiments yielded unexpected results.
“Promise?”
His expression softened. Just a fraction, just enough to make her heart flutter again.
“I promise.”
Then he was gone, moving towards the door with long strides, disappearing into the stairwell that led down to the tower’s entrance. She heard his footsteps echo on the metal treads, growing fainter until they faded entirely.
She sat alone at the table, surrounded by the remains of their meal, her fingers pressed to her tingling lips.
A soft chittering sound made her look up. Pip was staring at her with an expression of unmistakable judgment.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
More chittering, accompanied by an agitated flick of his feathered tail.
“It was just a kiss. One kiss. People do it all the time—I’ve read about it.”
Pip jumped to her shoulder and pressed his small face against her cheek, making the worried sound he always made when he thought she’d done something foolish.
“I know I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, reaching up to stroke his fur. “I know he’s practically a stranger. I know Ari probably has seventeen different warnings it wants to give me about the danger of emotional attachment to an unknown variable.”
She waited, but the AI remained silent. For once, it had no commentary to offer.
“But Pip...” She turned her head to look at her small companion, and she knew her face must be glowing with something ridiculous and wonderful. “That kiss was the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Pip chirped—a resigned, affectionate sound—and curled against her neck.
She sat in her kitchen, in her tower, in the only world she’d ever known, and waited for the stranger who’d already changed everything to come back.
