“What do you think of this one?” she asks, leaning back on the cushions.
“It is fine.”
She exhales a puff of air that has her hair fluttering about her head. “Surely you have more of an opinion than that.”
“The color is … questionable,” I settle on after searching for a proper word.
“It comes in other colors.”
“It is fine, then,” I say again.
She groans. “You hate it.”
She’s up and moving to the next couch before I can retort. I follow her to the next one.
“I did not?—”
She gives me a pursed-lip look.
“I didn’t hate it.”
My little pink mate seems to love things she calls contractions where I must combine one word with another, but it hurts my brain. I picked up a few from my captors and reading, at least. Humans today talk differently than I’m used to. While I was held captive, I learned other languages from those around me, but I never talked to them and not using my voice all that time makes speaking foreign.
“Thoughts on this one?” she prompts.
I appreciate that she’s making me a part of things, though I’m sure she’d rather not.
“It’s”—I look to her for approval, and she nods—“a weird shape.”
“You’re right.” She frowns. “Let’s try that one.” She points.
I follow her to the one she’s indicated.
“Ah,” she sighs happily as she sinks into it. “This one is perfect, don’t you think?”
“Perfect,” I agree. But how could I possibly say otherwise when I see how obviously she loves this particular one?
“It can be arranged in multiple alignments,” she explains. “Ooh, and look.” She holds up swatches of fabric. “It comes in pink.”
“You like pink a lot.”
“It’s my favorite color,” she says with a smile. “It makes me happy.”
“Then you should get it.” I don’t know what makes me do it, but I reach over and grab a strand of her hair, wrapping it around my finger.
Her breath catches and her eyes drop to where my finger holds the strands.
She stands suddenly and says a quick, “I think I will,” before she flutters her way back to the cart. “Come on, Valen. We still have some things to look for.”
I follow her with a small smile.
Hope is a feeling I haven’t dared to feel in a very long time, but Ava gives me that. Maybe, given enough time, she can heal the hole that’s been left in my soul.
CHAPTER 5
AVA
“Shit!”I shout as yet another Lego piece falls onto the ground. “Whoever said adult Lego sets were calming was a fucking liar.” I lean over sideways and grapple blindly under the new coffee table for my piece.
