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43SOPHIEI think I'm getting used to the touching again. At least, I hope I'm getting used to the touching. I sit in Jerrok's lap, and even though he shifts and seems a little uncomfortable, I suspect it's more that he wants me to relax than anything else. His expression is attentive, and he rubs his fingers lightly on the small of my back as we talk. I loop an arm around his shoulders and try to be casual, but it's difficult. It's difficult because touches stir all kinds of bad memories in me, and it's only the press of Jerrok's metal parts and the sensation of the wires lurking just under his synthetic skin that remind me that this is him, not…the enemy. This is my friend, Jerrok…who's more than a friend. Who I desperately want to kiss and I'm terrified of kissing at the same time.
What if we're touching and it feels like…before? What if I hate it? I'll hurt his feelings terribly, and the thought distresses me. He's been hurt enough by the universe, and I don't want to add to that.
But I'm afraid to take the next leap forward, too. Jerrok has agreed to go slow, but I know that now that we've both acknowledged that there's something between us, I feel like we can't let it sit and fester forever. You can't leave an open wound open. You have to seal it, or cauterize it, or else it gets infected.
I'm in his lap, and I could just lean over and press my mouth to his. Easy. Just…boom. But I can't bring myself to do it. I want to, but every time I take in a deep breath and try to shore up my courage, bad memories flash back. I imagine myself reaching for him and kissing him, only for the kiss to be awful. I imagine myself pushing him away, but he doesn't listen, because no one ever listens to what a human has to say—
I leap off his lap. "I'm going to check on Sleipnir."
"All right." Jerrok's tone is guarded. "I'll get back to work, I think."
Chicken, I chide myself. Fucking chicken! Look what you're doing! You're ruining things already! I beat myself up mentally as I head into the terrarium, seeking my bloodthirsty pet. Sleipnir's hiding amongst the leafy plants, gnawing on a big, bloody chunk of meat. His jowls are coated with blood and he gives me a disinterested look as I enter.
"Don't worry," I tell the carinoux. "I know better than to come between you and your meal." I sit down on a bench under an overgrown vine-laden archway and try to think. Maybe I'm moving too fast. Maybe I need to slow things down between Jerrok and myself. We can just hold hands for a couple of months or something, right?
But…what if the va Sithai brothers return soon? What am I going to do if I run out of time and I haven't even kissed Jerrok—really kissed him—yet? I bite back a whimper. If Jerrok asked me to stay, I would. I actually like the station more the longer I'm here. Sure, everything needs cleaning up, but I actually like cleaning. I love the terrarium, and I like how quiet and private this place is. I like that Jerrok doesn't get a lot of visitors. I like…Jerrok.
He hasn't asked me to stay, though. I suspect he won't. He's a loner, and no matter how much he might like my kisses, he's going to be glad to see me go. No one has ever been interested in sticking with me, long-term. Even my dad was out the door before I was ten, leaving my mom to raise me. And Mom reminded me that I was the problem over and over again. I suspect she didn't shed many tears when I didn't come home. She was used to people leaving her behind, too.
Sometimes I wonder how long it'll take before the va Sithai brothers dump me at the nearest port. I'm not a very good pirate. The thought's a little terrifying and I get up and race to my room, picking up a book. Instead of one of my new ones, I grab Outlander again and head right for the marriage scene and subsequent consummation. I need to remind myself that there are good things that happen when people come together. That no matter how life turns out, sometimes you get just a few sweet moments to carry with you as memories. Maybe I need to focus on that instead of my fear.
I read the scenes three times straight before I put the book down and take a calm breath. I'm in a better place now. I just needed to re-center myself. Distantly, I hear Jerrok swearing at something he's scrapping, the clink of metal tools and his irritated voice soothing. I change into my nightgown (an oversized tunic) and run a hand through my hair before I leave my room and head for his. Sleipnir meets me in the hall, butting his head against my legs, his opalescent scales gleaming clean once more. His breath smells like steak, though, and I spend a few minutes rubbing his head and cooing to him about how much I adore him. "I can't keep you either," I murmur. "But I can still love you, right?"
