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)
I kiss her again, just because I could kiss her for hours. "I wanted to do that before we got to the farm. Every time you're gone, I miss you so much. I can't think about anything but seeing you again. Touching you again."
"I feel the same." Haina rubs the back of my neck. "But I don't mind waiting if you feel like I'm rushing you."
"You're not rushing me—not at all. I want this more than anything." Sometimes I feel like I want it even more than her and that scares me a little bit. I know my affection is a little intense, and I worry that I'm going to scare her off.
"Then let's go back to your place."
I'm nervous for the rest of the short trip back to my farm. It's the first time Haina's going to visit, and I imagine it looks rustic and pathetic to someone that pilots a spaceship and spends her days traveling through the stars. My little farmhouse is simple, with a few windows and a main domed living area with an attached secondary dome for private quarters. Some women love gardening and have flower beds in front of their houses, but mine is bare and lackluster. It's as uninteresting as, well, me.
"Do you like farming?" is all that Haina asks as I set the sled down.
"I'm not sure. No one's ever asked me if I like it or not." I gaze around at my house, noticing the shabby cushions on my secondhand couch and the lack of furnishings I have. I'm not much of a homemaker. Never had a reason to think of this place as a “home.” To me, home is where family is, and it's just me here. "I guess I don't mind it. I get to breathe fresh air every day and I'm in charge of myself. You can't ask for more than that." I turn to her. "Do you like deliveries?"
She seems startled by my question. "No one's ever asked me that, either." Haina smiles, considering. "I suppose it's a job. It gives me enough credits to be comfortable and I get to see new places and meet people. It could be a lot worse."
"What would you do if you could do anything you wanted?" I ask, eager to learn more about her. "Anything at all?"
Haina takes a step inside my house, shaking her head. "Didn't really consider it much."
"No? How come?"
She runs her hand along the counter in my small kitchen. "I grew up an orphan in the station slums. To me, success was not turning into a criminal or ending up addicted to something. Success was being able to support myself and breathe in clean air every once in a while." She steps toward the small window overlooking my land. "Didn't dream bigger than that. So I guess I'm happy with my job. But if you're asking what I'd do if I found myself suddenly flush with credits and never having to work again?" She smiles out at the sight of my garden. "I like vegetables. Maybe I'd try growing some."
"I could help you with that," I tell her shyly.
"You don't think it's silly?"
I shake my head and move to her side, gazing out at the greenery growing in its neat, tidy rows. Bots handle most everything but there are certain things that need human—or mesakkah—intervention. "I can see the appeal of being in the sun and fresh air and making your own food, especially after growing up on a station."
"It might be…nice." Haina glances over at me. "What about you? What did you want to be when you became an adult, if not a farmer?"
I want to lean closer to her. To rest my head on her shoulder. To let her encircle me in her arms and burrow against her warmth and protective embrace. But…I also want her to reach for me, first. I need that. "It's strange, because back on Earth, you're expected to know what you want to do for the rest of your life when you turn eighteen. You're still practically a kid, though, and you're supposed to have your mind made up. When I was eighteen, I didn't know what I wanted…and then I got taken by aliens and it didn't matter."
"And now?" She watches me closely.
"Fifteen years later?" I shrug. "I still haven't really given it much thought. It's not what I want to do with my life. It's what I want to be, if that makes sense."
"And what do you want to be?" Haina prompts.
I pause, feeling vulnerable. "Loved."
She's silent, and I swallow hard. I'm not good at exposing my emotions. At being raw and honest. Everything in me that's learned to protect myself screams to retreat, but I know that if I want Haina—and happiness—I have to come out of my shell, just a little.