I still don’t think a little dick sucking and even the cum factories are too much of a strain. I mean, it’s technically a renewable resource, so who cares?
But there has to be more to all of this than any of us has been told. I’m not the smartest, most observant person in the world, but even I can see where the cracks are forming. I don’t think Zane and his family are right to hate them on principle, but maybe I’ve been a little too trusting.
I glance over at the new guy and attempt to get a read on him, but I’m not great at being able to understand their expressions yet. I take a breath and decide, at the very least, I can be a gracious host.
“Do you want some food?” I ask. Maybe if I can get this guy to relax, I can weasel a little more information out of him.
He says nothing.
“You know, it’s impolite not to answer someone when they ask you a question.”
He blinks owlishly at me, then glances away. He seems…embarrassed. Shit, did I do something? Have I said something wrong?
I’m not trying to be an asshole, really. This is all just new and confusing. I went from a minimum-wage dude slinging hot dogs at the mall to a walking cum dispenser for a Vyastil commander in the span of a week.
I lost my apartment, my space, my peace, and parts of my independence all in one fell swoop.
I had consented to all of it, yes, but I hadn’t expected my life to be flipped upside down the way it was.
“Sorry,” I say after a moment of silence.
I open a drawer and find a ton of sugar packets. The kind that you find at cheap diners. It’s not what I prefer, but it’ll do. He doesn’t have any kind of creamer, and that’s gonna have to change.
“This is all new for me. I’m Everest, by the way. If you didn’t know.”
The monster stares, then says. “Ev…er…” He’s struggling, like he can’t quite make his long, thin tongue form around human words.
“Ev is fine,” I tell him, waving my hand. When the coffee’s done brewing, I snag the cup and start dumping packets of sugar into it. “Most of my friends call me that. Who are you?”
He takes a beat, then says, “Cielo.” There’s a hum to his words when he says it, right in the back of his throat, that I know I can’t make. I’ve heard Rathyn speak like that too, when he’s using his own language.
“Cielo?” I try.
His lips twitch like he’s trying to hide a smile, but he nods. I know it’s not exactly right, but if it’s good enough for him, I’ll take it.
“English is hard, right?”
He frowns.
“Haaaaarrrr.” His eyes widen, and he nods.
He taps his lip once with his long finger, sticks out his long tongue for a second, and shakes his head. “Noooo…ehhhseeee.” His long tongue trips over the first word a bit when he tries to make a T sound. It comes out a lot like, “Nothhhh,” with a slow hiss.
The word easily gets stuck in the back of his throat and is mostly a hum. I can understand him, though. And I can work with it.
“But you understand?”
He nods again.
That’s a relief. “That’s fine. I can do the talking for both of us. That’s kind of my thing. I got so much fucking detention in middle school because I didn’t know when to shut my mouth.”
He looks slightly terrified as I take my fruit and coffee to the table and sit.
“It’s a human thing. School. You have school, right?” I gesture to the empty chair across from me, and he looks unsure for a beat before crossing the room to sit. “Like, where you learn stuff?”
“Lihhhhrnnn,” he repeats, his tongue getting stuck a bit on the L.
I’m not going to even try to make him say school. “We start school when we’re about five. Shapes, colors, letters, that kind of thing. I mastered reading pretty quick. My parents and teacher thought I was really smart in kindergarten. Their opinion changed by first grade, but it didn’t really matter to me. I was having fun.”
