“Always,” she whispers back, and the simplicity of it settles something deep in my soul.
Morning light filters through the observation window, brighter and warmer than the ship’s. Aris is making coffee—the same terrible instant coffee that tastes like burnt regret, but she drinks it anyway.
I’m reviewing geological survey data. The amplification field from the ruins is still active, still dangerous to the unbonded. ButI can stand in its influence now without losing myself, because she is always with me, a constant, grounding presence in my mind.
“Look at this,” Aris says, leaning over my shoulder to point at the screen. “See that energy signature? It’s consistent with a larger network. The ruins we found are just the tip of the iceberg.”
“Underground?”
“Has to be.” She grins, a spark of excitement flashing between us through the bond. “I want to lead the next survey team in there. There’s more to discover, and now we know how to navigate the field safely.”
“Carefully,” I say. “Very carefully. No touching random interfaces.”
“That was one time.”
“One time that almost killed you.”
“But it didn’t.” I turn in my chair and pull her into my lap. She comes easily, fitting against me like she was designed for this. “Because you were there.”
“Because we were there together.” She kisses me, a quick, casual press of her lips that has become as natural as breathing. “The bond makes everything easier.”
It does. Her boundless enthusiasm is balanced by my calm; my tendency toward rigid control is softened by her flexibility. We complete each other’s sentences and work together like we’ve been doing it for years instead of days.
“I got a message from my parents,” she says. Her tone is casual, but I feel the flicker of tension through the bond. “They’re pleased I’m making use of my geology degree, but disappointed I’m staying on a frontier colony instead of returning to do ‘serious research’ at an established institution.”
“Your parents are wrong. The work you are doing here will be foundational. Captain MacGray’s Enhanced Integration Corps will be studying your findings for years to come.”
“I know. They just don’t see it that way.” She shrugs, the gesture hiding a hurt she can’t quite suppress. “But I’m staying anyway. That old survey site has become a priority salvage location, and the component I retrieved is already being studied by the engineering corps.”
I send a wave of comfort, understanding, and love through the bond.
The tension leaves her shoulders in a slow wave as she relaxes into me. “Your parents sent another message. They want to visit. To meet me. Your mother specifically requested I bring samples from the night-blooming flowers in the colony gardens.”
“She would.” I can imagine my mother already, thrilled that I’ve found someone who challenges me, who makes me laugh, who makes me better. “They’ll love you.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I know you,” I say, meeting her eyes. “They’ll love you.” I pull up the survey data again. “Now stop distracting me. We have ruins to map.”
“I’m distracting you?”
“Always.”
She laughs and steals my stylus, pulling up her own notes on the secondary screen. We work side by side, the bond humming between us—steady, strong, and right. This is our life now: studying ancient ruins, helping the colony establish itself, and learning to navigate our connection as we build something new from the ruins of what we were separately.
Better together than we ever were apart.
She kisses me again, longer this time, deeper. When we break apart, her smile is bright, real, and happy.
“Back to work,” she says. “These ruins won’t map themselves.”
“Unfortunately not.”
We turn back to our screens, her leaning against my shoulder, my arm wrapped around her waist. The bond has settled into a comfortable background presence, always there, always steady.
It’s not a place, not a planet, not even a colony on the edge of known space.
It’s her. It’s us. It’s this connection that saved us both.
