“He broke your commitment?” he asked, his words more direct than before.
“He did.”
“Is that easy to do on your world?”
“It is a choice,” she replied. “Is it not on yours?”
“Once one has met their partner, casual intimacy has no appeal. We, uh, connect, only with each other.”
“So do you have ceremonies to signify this?”
He shrugged. “Some do. The higher can, if they choose. For the average Kantenan, it is not necessary. One is mated. Preambles are not necessary.”
“Maybe that’s what we need on my world. Less preamble. More commitment.”
“Possibly.” He turned to the little kitchenette-looking space. “Hungry?”
"I could eat." The thought of food made her stomach grumble, and she really needed it now.
She watched how his shoulders moved as he prepared the food. Eventually, she’d figure out how to use the technology, but for now, if he was going to make her a meal, she was good with it. His movements pulled the shirt he wore taunt over his broad shoulders, cutting a very appealing silhouette.
The whole red skin thing was kinda weird, but his body shape was very sexy.
She stared at his spine and realized that the ruffled fabric she’d seen before was concealing something on his back.
Gah, what could that be?
"So why are your clothes so loose on your spine? Is that like a fashion thing?"
He turned a little and glanced at her over his shoulder. "It is for my ridge," he said as came back over to her with two bowls.
He gestured to a small table she’d not noticed in the corner, and she followed him over to it.
“You have a ridge on your spine?”
He sat the bowls down, along with chopsticks that had little hooks on the ends.
Tori picked them up and clicked them in her fingers for a moment, before she dove into the bowl of pasta and protein that tasted suspiciously like chicken.
She chuckled to herself.
“You find food funny?” he asked, food half-way to his mouth.
“No, it’s not that. Uh, on my world, there’s this meat called chicken. It’s sort of universal meat, and the joke is, when someone has something new, you say ‘tastes like chicken’ because chicken tastes like everything. Or everything could be chicken.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She waved her hand. “It’s one of those stupid things. Just a joke, I guess.”
“I see,” he said, taking a bite. “You will find many new things here.”
“Of that, I have no doubt,” she said. Okay, so the meat didn’t quite taste like chicken. There was a kicky flavor to it. Good, but not as neutral as chicken.
She took another bite and glanced at her dinner partner. “So why are you here?”
“To find a mate.”
“You don’t sound particularly interested in the prospect.”
