Chapter 12
Haven
“Here. Change into this.”
Haven looked up as Vytln pushed something in through the hole of the trap. A bundle fell down the slide to land at her thigh. She blinked at it before removing the mini-medscanner she had been tinkering with off her lap. It was a piece of technology too small for Vytln’s large hands to easily manipulate, but if she could get it to work, it would make Goldie’s life easier. So, he’d let her take it into her nest to try to learn and repair it. That, along with his combot and the schematics for the device and how it should work.
For a prisoner, she really had a lot of freedom.
“What is this being?” She asked, unfolding the fabric, then oo’ing over the softness.
“New clothes.” Vytln peeked in through the hole. “We’re stopping to pick up the delivery for this next run, and we’re getting a day of station time.”
“I can going too?” She asked, perking up. Then immediately slinking back. “Waiting. No. I don’t wanting to go. Thanking you.”
Vytln growled, knocking his knuckles against the side. “Don’t get excited. I’m not letting you out of my sight while we’re there. You’re not getting away. This is temporary leave only, so we can get some tools and supplies. You’re not leaving that easily.”
It was grumpy, and he had an annoyed tone when he said it, but Haven beamed, excited again. She heard what he was telling her without saying directly.
They weren’t going to leave her there. They weren’t going to force her off the ship. They’d be coming back –she’dbe coming back.
“Okay! I’ll getting changing right now!” She laughed, setting the mini-medscanner over onto a small shelf along the wall adjacent to the opening. Right beside her old duffel bag. Vytln had retrieved it for her after going into her old home to fix that broken pipe.
He returned her old bedding as well, cleaned and dried, so she could add it to her nest. Along with all her other clothes and the rare few trinkets she had gathered.
The trap was really well planned out. It had everything she needed. Not only was it impossible to get out once inside, but it was incredibly comfortable for her. She had her own little privy built into the back to clean up and do her business. Vytln acted as her own personal concierge and brought her food multiple times a day. And it was good food too. Most prisoners got nutrition powder mixed with water, but she actually got meals.
Yes, she was very well taken care of for a prisoner.
As she was grabbing her clothes, ready to pull them off, she peeked up, but to her disappointment, Vytln had already walked away. He wasn’t sticking around for the show.
Shame. She was eager to give him one.
The clothes he provided were simple, but they were comfortable. The black pants were basically leggings and tucked into her old Earth shoes rather easily. The shirt was tunic style, low on either side, and was a bright, almost glowing yellow, with a dark orange belt that, when tightened around her waist, made her think of the embers that burned in Vytln’s eyes.
Had he intended to make her match him, or was it a coincidence? She couldn’t see him doing it on purpose though, so maybe he just naturally gravitated to those colors, wanting to see them on her indirectly if it couldn’t be his actual body.
Giggling to herself, she ran her fingers through her locs, getting them back in order. The micro dreads were harder to keep up in space, but she loved the way they fell around her shoulders, and how easy they were to deal with compared to her natural curls. The tools she had created for herself, and the product she used to maintain her locs, were also on her shelves. Brought over from her old room and put away like she was unpacking after a long trip home.
All in all, she looked pretty good by the time she finished dressing. She grabbed her letter jacket and tugged it on before climbing up to the opening and poking her face into the hole.
“Readying!” she called out.
Vytln, who was stuffing his belt full of something from one of his storage drawers along the wall, immediately turned and came back. He undid the trap and reached for her in the samefluid motion, lifting her out and setting her on her feet like it was the most natural thing. Considering he was the only one to help her in or out, maybe it was. Maybe this was just part of the mating process of his people. A species, she realized, she didn’t even know the name of yet.
“Vytln,” she called to him as he walked her forward, keeping a possessive hand there at her lower back. “What are you being?”
“Annoyed, mostly,” he grumbled.
“Not that,” she laughed. “Though, you are being grumpier than usually. I meaning, whatareyou being? Like, your type of people.”
“Oh, my species. I’m a southern lvtl.”
“Hm? Southern lvtl?”
“I mean, my species has two races. The north lvtl, and the south. I’m from the hotter side.”
“Ah, I’m seeing. I am being human.”
