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 flinch at that. Space. It's the one thing we really can't give to each other, living in this end of the station. "Gotcha." I tuck the bag of noodles under my arm and pat my leg so Sleipnir will follow me.
If Jerrok wants space, I'll give it to him. After all, I'm imposing on his territory. Who cares what Sophie wants, right?
29
JERROK
I stare down at the familiar pliers in my hand and wonder if I should just use them to rip off my stupid arm instead of the capacitor in front of me. I've hurt Sophie's feelings. It's obvious in the way that she walks out of the room, her shoulders stiff and proud, and just how silent she is. A happy Sophie is a chatty Sophie. In the last few weeks as we've been getting comfortable with each other, she's been slowly opening up, talking more day after day. She talks about the weather. She talks about the station. She talks about the part she's dissembling, wanting to know what it's for. It's like now that the dam has burst, the solemn-eyed female has been replaced with one of sunshine and light, and it just makes me ache for her all the more.
That's part of the problem.
Being around her, breathing in her scent, seeing her smiles…it's rough on someone as used to loneliness as I am.
It makes me want things.
Things I can't have.
Last night, she yawned and rubbed her neck, giving me a sleepy smile before heading off to bed. The way she touched her skin lingered in my mind, and I immediately went to the lavatory, turned on the shower, and jerked off. I rubbed my cock hard and fast, trying to work the image out of my head, but when I went to bed, it stuck with me.
I dreamed of that night in the hotel room, of Sophie touching my face. I dreamed of her hands gliding over my chest, even as she whispered soft, sexual things. Her hands slid down my front, finding my cock…and then stopped.
Because my cock wasn't there. In its place, it was just more scrap metal. More prosthetics. And the dream-Sophie had a look of such disgust on her face that I woke up in a pool of sweat. My mood's been bad ever since, and no amount of work alleviates the funk looming over me. That's why I can't be around her today. I can't get that dream out of my head—a combination of what I want most with what I fear most. Hasn't Sophie made it clear that she finds alien men disgusting? Given her past, that seems natural. So me dreaming about her is just an invitation to misery.
So I work on my own. Or I try to, but the hours crawl past miserably slow. I can't seem to concentrate, and it's quiet in my work area. Too quiet. I miss Sophie's mindless chatter about nothing in particular. I miss her company, and I'm angry that I do. I shove my goggles down over my eyes, turning on the magnifiers so I can focus on the task at hand. The station feedback begins to drone through my head via the goggles, giving a rundown of life support systems and perimeter testing. It's quiet, peaceful feedback and helps my head focus on the scrap before me and not on Sophie.
Sophie's just visiting. No sense in getting attached. I'm best alone, I remind myself.
Always alone.
I pry a flux chip out of a transistor when the station feedback gives a chirp of alarm. Water pressure dropping. Possible leak in sector T.
T is the terrarium. It's not surprising there's a leak there, because there's an entire network of old pipes and sprinklers designed to water the plants and keep them growing. The entire station is old, so every once in a while, I have to go and restore a corroded pipe or two. It's not a big deal. But Sophie's in the terrarium, which means I'm going to have to see her, and my mood is still black as night…and it's not even her fault.
I can't ignore a leaking pipe, though, especially not a leak big enough to set off the sensor alarms. So with a sigh of displeasure, I push off my stool and leave my workstation, heading for the terrarium. I hate that I run a hand through my hair, trying to push it out of my face. That I straighten my clothes. I'm not primping for a female. I'm not.
I thump my way down the halls and into the terrarium. The moment I step through the doorway, the air feels humid and thick, and I can hear water spraying from somewhere. Definitely a leak. Sleipnir paces near the entrance, his hide shiny and wet. He rubs against my leg as I go inside, as if encouraging me to go find Sophie.