“Gymmm,” Cielo hums, still not looking up.
Zane hesitates for a second, then looks at me. There’s something in his expression—something quiet, hidden. Something I don’t trust. I see it because I’ve spent most of my life using a language that requires understanding the most subtle nuances and shifts on a person’s face.
But before I can get any idea what it is, it’s gone.
Zane squares his shoulders and gives me the typical bro-nod before tossing his keys up in the air, catching them, then leaving the apartment like he was never here at all.
A few moments after the front door slams, I hear him revving his truck, and then there’s silence.
“You’re annngery,” Cielo says.
I shake my head. “No.”
‘Lie,’ Cielo signs, one hand still on the possum.
Sitting back, I eye the little creature sleeping against his chest, and I feel a tiny pulse of jealousy. I want that to be me. I want to be the one curled up against his chest, being soothed by his gentle purring. But that isn’t fair.
I’m not a pet.
I’m a person who has big feelings and no idea what to do with them. I grab Cielo’s phone and click on the first link Zane sent, reading through the beginning of the article.
It does ease my mind a little.
“Well, looks like they rarely ever get rabies, so that’s a plus. Looks like they don’t carry many diseases at all.”
“Diseaaseeee,” Cielo repeats.
“Illness,” I tell him. “It just means it’s safe to have in the house.” I lean over and, after psyching myself up, drag two fingers down the possum’s back. The hair is wiry but still soft like a baby’s. With a bath and a brush, it’ll probably be fluffy and even cuter. “What do you want to name it?”
Cielo sighs and stares down at it, then back up at me. “Niaus.” He says the word partly how it would sound in English, but there’s a humming, melodic trill that I doubt I could replicate.
I don’t even try. “Niaus,” I say.
I know I’ve got it wrong, but Cielo smiles like I’ve just solved the theory of gravity.
“What does it mean?”
He hums, then I hear his voice in my head, not aloud.“It is something we are called when we are young. A term of affection.”
“Like from your parents?”
He shakes his head, then shrugs. “No parennnnsss.”
“You don’t have parents, even ones who adopted you?”
Cielo bows his head again and shakes it. Then he’s speaking inside my mind once more.“Not like humans do. We are created during the breeding season. Some of us are selected to be raised in the capital. The rest are placed in the Outerlands. We are given to a village for rearing, and are nurtured, fed, educated, and trained for work.”
My head’s spinning. No parents? No cuddles, no affection? I shouldn’t be surprised, of course. Cielo was entirely unfamiliar with what a hug was, and I think he’s still figuring out cuddling.
I reach out, cupping my hand over his cheek, and wait until his eyes find mine. “That sounds lonely.”
“Lonnnnely,” he tries on his tongue. “Lonnely,” he says again, this time better. He nods. “Yes, my Dante. Is lonnely. I did not unnnderstannnd lonnely befffrrr. I do now.”
I stroke my fingers over his jaw, my heart twisting in my chest. “You don’t have to be lonely now. You know that, right? You have me. You have Everest and Rath. Quilliyn. The guys at the gym.”
“Brody,” he says with a tiny grin. “Tyler. Chadweeek.”
I hate that they can make him smile, but I also know he’s mine, and I need to manage these feelings better. “Maybe even Zane, if he’s not being a fucking dick about the Vyastil.”
