Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 72(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 72(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
She gives me a warm, friendly smile as I take a step into the store and gestures at the noodles she's stocking on the counter by the register. "Let me know if I'm in your way."
I gulp and nod, ducking my head and retreating to the far side of the store. She always greets me, but I never have the courage to say anything back. What could I possibly say that wouldn't come across as completely weird anyhow? Hi, I think I'm in love with you because I love your laugh?
Just like I do every week, I stay on the opposite end of the store and pretend to shop. All the while, I watch her talk cheerfully to the guy behind the counter. Someone else comes in—another woman—and my crush pauses to talk to her, too. They joke about the weather, and how everyone's buying up a particular flavor of noodle that must be popular with humans, and she just seems like she's having the best time.
I watch her mouth as she smiles. I watch the play of her ponytail at the nape of her neck. And I thrill with quietly shared joy every time she laughs. I hug a candle to my chest and pretend to sniff the other ones, even though I already have a dozen extra candles back home. It's just that this particular spot in the store allows me to watch her without interruption, and so when she glances my way, I add another to my basket. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.
"Well," my crush eventually says, folding down the last container and tucking it under her arm. "That's all from me this week. I'll be back next Thursday. Let me know if you have any particular requests between now and then."
She looks over at me meaningfully.
Oh. A request? A chance to talk to her? God, I would love that. I lick my lips, full of yearning…and then the shopkeeper glances over at me. The door opens, and another woman walks in, and my shyness gets the better of me. I duck my head again and add yet another candle to my growing purchases.
"See you, Brttaa," she calls out, and then the doors to the store slide open and she's gone.
I could kick myself. I had a perfect opportunity to speak to her. She looked at me. Made eye contact.
And I clammed up like an idiot. I'm devastated. Now I have to wait a whole other week before I can even look at her, much less talk to her. My shoulders slump and I feel completely deflated.
"You going to buy that crap or what?" the shopkeeper asks me. He crosses his feathered arms over his chest and glares in my direction, all sense of politeness gone now that the mesakkah female has left.
Right. I put back all the heavy candles except for one, take it up to the counter, and then carefully set a credit down to pay for it. "Thank you."
He grunts and palms my credit, not offering any change. I guess I bought an expensive one. Ah well. Maybe the scent will remind me of her. I lift it to my nose, sniffing…and choke on the cloying herbal scent of it. Okay, maybe it won't remind me of her. That is definitely not a human-influenced scent.
I step out of the store with my purchase, and immediately, a shadow steps in front of me. "Fancy running into you again, human."
The voice is menacing, with a hint of a rumble in it that sounds like a purr. Terrified, I stare up into the face of the praxiian that hit my sled.
2
ALI
The alien grins down at me, all terrifying fangs. "Aren't you just the sweetest little bite of meat."
I shrink back when he reaches out to touch a loose lock of my hair with a clawed hand. Terror flares through me, and I'm reminded of terrible days in the past, when I was first kidnapped from Earth and sold into slavery. There were so many reaching hands back then, and I thought I'd forgotten all of them. But when he reaches for me, the memories come flooding back and I break into a cold sweat, a choked sound of fear escaping me.
He gives me a scrutinizing look, rubbing my hair, and I feel like a pinned bug.
"Hey," calls a familiar voice. A moment later, a warm arm loops around my shoulders. "Get your own piece, praxiian. This human's mine."
It's the mesakkah woman from the store. My crush.
"Funny," the praxiian says, not backing down. "She doesn't smell like you."
"It's called showering, you keffing idiot. Look into it." And she leans in and gives my cold cheek a nuzzle. "Is this fool bothering you, Ali?"
Ali. She knows my name. It's like everything inside me slides into place. I feel calmer with her arm around me, her warmth and her scent enveloping me. I love the press of her nose against my skin, and even her breath is pleasant.