“I’m only asking because I would want you to correct me if I ever said something not quite right in Surya-Vaani—would you want me to let you know if you make a mistake in Tellurian?”
Tanisira tilts her head in that way she has, curious. “Please.”
“The saying isshakinglike a leaf, not trembling, although the meaning still comes across. It wouldn’t raise many eyebrows, if any, but it is noticeable.”
The quirk in the corner of her mouth is so small yet has such an effect on the room—she does it so rarely. I think I can even detect gratitude in that smile.
I end up stuffing a croissant into my mouth as I grab a seat. Waving Tanisira over, I push everything into the middle of the table and wait for her to sit. The pastry is buttery and soft, and I could cry as it melts in my mouth. It hits my stomach hard, but once I start eating in earnest and soak up the coffee, I feel way better. This is all followed up with some juice; freshly pressed, thick and tart.
Tanisira hums as she bites into something that looks like a very thin, flaky waffle. The noise is so unexpected that I get stuck watching her chew. She says it’s calledpatisri duci,and after savouring a few bites, she holds it out to me. I’m surprised by how easily she does it. I hesitate, staring at the place where she last sank her teeth. Suddenly, my skin prickles with warmth—this feels obscenely intimate. The worst part is Tanisira doesn’t even seem to realise; she looks confused.
“What’s wrong?”
Put on the spot, I say the first thing that pops into my head. “Just impressed at how quickly you offered to share with me,” I force a laugh. “I hate sharing. Especially food.”
Then with a smile, I lean forward and take a bite. Something like excitement fizzles through me when we make eye contact, and Tanisira’s gaze drops to my mouth. Oh, God, I can’t handle her looking at me like that right now.
“Only child syndrome, you know?” I blurt. It’s not even a lie; I’m bad at sharing, and territorial, amongst other things unique to my childhood.
She finally looks away, pushing the platter of pastries towards me. “I can see that.”
It’s close enough to a joke that I can laugh for real, and force my mind away from the rasp in her voice and towards the sugary treat. It’s so sweet that I’m amazed, after that little lecture Tanisira gave me a few days ago, she can stand to eatit. As she picks up another, I file away the fact that she rocks slightly back and forth when she enjoys her food.
I really shouldn’t be hoarding any facts about her. But the way she just pinned all that intensity on me…
I’m just going to say it.
I meet Tanisira’s eyes and raise my brows. “Last night was intense.”
She’s back to being hard to read. She sits back and crosses her arms, and I catch the moment her gaze dips down to my lips for the second time. “Which part?”
I lose all my courage. Thankfully, my mouth is incapable of drying out because of the juice I’m pouring into it. “I have some questions,” I say, backtracking. “Well, I have a lot of questions.”
“I thought you might. I’m happy to answer them.” Tanisira inclines her head slightly, but when I go to continue, she cuts me off. “As long as you tell me what’s going on with you.”
I freeze, which is when my hand spasms around the frosted glass. Because, of course, Dominik has stocked his ship with glass. There’s a loaded second where my fingers clench on the cup before it slips right out of my hand. I watch, mortified, as it falls—anticipating the crash, the mess. But Tanisira catches it, the glass cupped in one hand and the bottom of it pressed into the palm of her other. Juice dribbles over the rim, rivulets across her skin, a puddle on the deck, drops splashed over my clothes.
I inhale sharply. “How did you do that? Mods?”
I didn’t think it was very common on Mars.
She puts the cup down and shakes her head softly. “No.”
It seems impossible for her to have such good reflexes without body mods.
“Then how?”
Tanisira leans in and swipes her thumb over my collarbone, wiping a drop of juice from my skin. It sends a shiver through me.
“I was just paying attention.” She shrugs slightly.
The soft curling of her words sends an effervescent tingle through my stomach. All I can do is nod, on the verge of swallowing my tongue at the look in her eyes. Everything she says carries such weight, as though she’ll never utter a word that she doesn’t mean. Worst, I believe it.
Tanisira sits back in her seat again. “I’m waiting.”
“Nothing going on with me.”
“Try that again.”
