Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
I roll my eyes. Jerrok the Jerk is back in full force. I get to my feet and hold a hand out for him. "Fine. Let's at least go sit on the bed, okay?"
I expect him to ignore my hand, but to my surprise, he takes it.
26
JERROK
Sophie's relief at being back at the station is palpable. She's practically singing with excitement when I land the shuttle in the docking bay, and when she races inside to greet Sleipnir, I can hear her little cries of happiness through the doors. When I carry the first crate of noodles into the main work area, I find Sophie in the hall, lying on the floor with the large carinoux cuddled against her. She scratches his head and snuggles him, murmuring love words as the thing rubs his face all over every bit of her.
I've never been so jealous of a damned animal.
"I see he didn't starve," I grumble as I move past them.
She just laughs and fusses with the carinoux some more. "He's such a good boy. I missed you so much!" She gets up, dusting off her clothes, and turns to me. "Sorry. I'll help with putting the supplies away."
"I've got it. Don't let me interrupt your moment."
Sophie helps me anyhow, taking the smaller crates of food and transporting them into the corner of my work area, in the space I've designated for it. She puts the last box down and glances around as I pull out one of the dehydrated chunks of meat to feed her beast. "You know what I'm noticing? This station's a lot bigger than the area you use. There's tons of rooms but you only use these two halls and the terrarium. How come?"
I shrug. "Because I don't need more?"
"I guess that makes sense. But every room is a mess." She gestures at the boxes. "You could clean out another one of the rooms and put your food supplies in there, for example, instead of tripping over them in here."
"I didn't ask for your opinion," I say sourly.
"No, but you get it anyway." A little of her fierceness has returned now that she's reunited with her protective pet. She takes the tray with the big slab of meat and walks away with it, the carinoux winding his long body around her legs as if he's missed her fiercely. Oddly enough, I'm feeling less resentful to the creature. She feels safe with it around and the carinoux adores her. She deserves to feel safe.
My work area looks the same as it always does, as if I've never left. I can return to work as if I've never paused. I grab the nearest engine piece to strip and scrap, and get to work. Normally I don't care. It's something to do to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied. I can work for hours on intricate extractions of chips and drive crystals, just because it needs patience and that's one thing I have plenty of.
Today, though, instead of focusing on the task at hand, I keep wondering what Sophie is doing. After we put away the supplies, she disappeared into her quarters. Hours pass and for some reason, the day seems to be grinding to a halt. I hate that. I hate that I care. I hate that I keep thinking about the way she massaged my limbs and I wonder if she thinks about it, too.
When my stomach growls, I make an enormous batch of noodles for a meal. Sophie hasn't emerged to ask about food, so I make extra just in case she wants to come out and spend time with me. Not that she would. But…just in case. I let the noodles sit for a while, waiting, and when there's still no sign of the human, I chastise myself for being foolish and eat. Why would she spend time with me now? There's no point. She doesn't like my company—and why should she? I'm cruel to her. I hate myself for even thinking about it. I'm fine alone.
Better off alone, even.
Even so, the noodles are going to go bad if no one eats them. I glance over at the food pot a few times as I go back to work, but Sophie still doesn't come by, not even to say hello. My mood grows more sour by the minute.
If she wants to hide away from me, that's fine. I'll tell her this food is ready and it's the last time I leave scraps for her. She can feed herself in the future. Irritated, I rub my twitching arm as I storm down the halls toward her quarters.
Her room is empty, though. The bed is neatly made, the floors gleaming, and the book is on the corner of the bed, face down and open, as if she's been reading it again. I think about her disappointment with the book in the hotel room back on the station. She must like reading a lot.