How could I use that?
"Is the problem that I like to fuckaliens?"I asked in Standard, schooling my face to what I hoped was very pretty confusion."I know Seraphim thinks that inter-species relationships are wrong.Let not our righteous blood be co-mingled with the wickedness from among the stars.Of course, it's notbloodI'm co-mingling, so I'm not sure that applies."
Grigor's jaw twitched.I could almost hear him grinding his teeth tighter and tighter as the words rattled through his translation chip."I'mmakingan offer," he ground out."Come back to Seraphim and your debt will be forgiven."
"And what about my sins?"I asked mildly, studying him.Did they really think I would?Did they think that they could send someonelikethisand persuade me to return?It didn't make sense and I wanted it to.No matter how often I reminded myself not to care, it was hard to avoid it: they'd upended my entire life, and for what?Why were they still hounding me?
"That depends on if you repent.It's between you, your Shepherd, and God.No matter whatIthink."At his side, his hands had curled into meaty fists.
"If you're here as a PR move," I said, aiming for a breezy delivery thatcame outa little breathless, "they definitely sent the wrong person.Or do I just rattle you that much?Were you waiting outside my apartment for a private conversation, or were you hoping to buy some of my time?"
I waited as the words filtered through his chip.I could track the progress by the colour of his face, which grew progressively redder and splotchier.If I just kept insisting on camera that he wanted to fuck me, would he leave me alone?Surely.
"You –" started Grigor, low and deadly as he shifted his weight, as he began to prowl down the hall toward me.
But then the door behind me opened, and Araxis was standing at my side with a tray of food and tea.He was a picture of ease and confidence, except that I could see the tightening of his fingers on the tray as his shoulder brushed mine.His black stare was pinned on Grigor, who'd drawn up short."He's not joining us, is he, Sashen?"asked Araxis."I only brought two cups."
"No," I said, painting on a smile."He was waiting here to see if I was available, but I told him I'm not."
"And is he bothering you?"Araxis shifted forward, positioning his bodyjust barelyin front of mine.
"Hewas," I said, "but he's done now.Unless there was anything else you had to say, Grigor?"
Grigor stared at the two of us, seething but seemingly unable to form words.Finally, his jaw working like he was chewing a piece of gristle, he said in English, "You keep badmouthing Seraphim, andyou see how that works for you, Alikander.God works in mysterious ways, and if you aren't willing to listen, Hewillfind another route.You remember this moment.You could have chosen differently."And then he turned, shoulders drawn up tight, and he strode down the hall toward the other stairwell.
"Sorry I made you jealous," I called after him, unable to resist – and maybe because there was a part of me that wanted to feel like I was controlling at least part of that conversation.Like I had the upper hand.As if, by provoking Grigor, I could pretend that my hands hadn't started to shake, just a little.
The moment the other stairwell door banged shut behind Grigor, Araxis fluted out a hard breath, frowning."I don't care for the way he looks at you," he said, following as I went to my door, and then trailing after me into my apartment."Or the way he speaks to you."
I shrugged, walking toward the closet door."It's fine.But – I don't know.I don't want to talk about him.I don't want to think about him.I want to watch these videos with you – but I guess I'd better put on some clothes first."When I turned to look at Araxis, he'd set the tray down on the low table by the couch, his black starelingeringon the bare skin of my thighs.
"Hm."He nodded and turned away, ostensibly to go look out a window, even though it was dark out."Yes.Perhaps."
I laughed and got changed into something soft and comfortable, and when we settled onto the couch to drink tea and watch the introductory videos – which were, in the end, kind of impressive; the sequence of the two of us looked like it should have been part of a massive romance film, like we were so in love that we were bothglowing– I wasalmostable to pretend that this was normal.Just the two of us together, laughing at some of the bad intro lines – Araxis loved mine and insisted on watching it three times; his (I am here to prove my worth.Iwillbe victorious.Woe to any who stand in my way.) wasn't even funny, but he looked hot as hell delivering it so Ialsoinsisted we watch it three times.We'd pause during the combat sequences to point out what we were observing about each competitor: who was clearly unfamiliar with holding a blade, whomight be proficient.Of course, we knew a lot of that already – but it was good to speculate on camera.
When Araxis went to leave, tray and dishes in hand to return to the kitchen, we stood at the door for some time, chatting.I should go, he'd say, and not leave.It's been nice, though, I'd reply, standing a little closer than was strictly friendly.And then we'd do the whole thing over five minutes later.I suggested he come back the next night."I've got a pole in my room," I said, smile crooked."I could dance for you."
Araxis flushed, and my smile grew bigger."OrI could walk you through a few manoeuvres.I'm sure you'll pick it up up quickly.You canprove your worth."I mimicked his serious tone from the intro, and he trilled, shaking his head.
"If you would like to see me fail, then I will certainly accept your instruction.So long as you don't think less of me when I fall."
"I'll catch you," I promised, lost in his eyes.
Araxis swayed a little on his feet, then, as if he was thinking of leaning forward and kissing me, as if his body knew what he wanted.But it was only our fifth day.He was allowed to kiss me in two days' time.So instead of doing that, he reached one hand out and touched the charms dangling from my ear, which tinkled quietly in the space between us.He made a soft sound, almost a hum – thoughtful – and then withdrew.And this time, he really did leave.
I exhaled hard after closing the door and threw myself onto the bed, rolling to stare up at the ceiling, my stomach full of butterflies like this was real.Like any of it wasreal.
Therewassomething real I needed to contemplate though, I told myself as I sprawled on my bed, late in the evening.What exactly had Grigor Spade meant when he told me that, if I wouldn't stop talking shit about Seraphim, his god would deal with me?And what the fuck was I going to do about it?
I’d like to say that when I finally admitted that night that I wasn’t going to fall asleep, it wasbecause I was bingeing season six ofAcross the Timescape.But Iwastrying.Sleep just evaded me,always beyond the tips of my fingers.And thelonger I laid in bed,tryingto sleep, the worse my traitorous mind started behaving.Things had been pretty bad since coming to the village, as if Grigor's appearance had stirred up all of the dark things that lurked in the distant corner of my memory, which meant that the small hours of each night were haunted by everything I wanted to forget.
Since I didn't want to keep lying in bed, shivering and having a hard time breathing for no reason at all, Irelented.Maybe ifI could figure out what the fuck was going on with Grigor Spade and Seraphim,I’d be able to sleep.Maybe if I could understandwhat the fuck they were doing here, I'd stop feeling like I had a foot half in the past; honestly, the present was challenging enough.
So I tapped on the lights to the kind of soft glow appropriate for very late at night and I made myself a cup of abayan tea – I'd collected a stash a few days earlier in anticipation of Araxis's scheduled visits – and then I sat and played over my interactions with Grigor.I thought about writing them down, but that would be too obvious.
Instead, I gathered props.
I set down an extra mug on the low table.That could stand in for the mixer.He'd said he needed to talk to me about something, that I had to listen.Grigor had also pointed out that I was disgusting and shameless.
