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‘I can’t talk to you when you won’t fucking look at me.’ I get far too close, my hands in his face.

His gaze slides to mine, and I feel the intensity of it. Can feel his breath hit my fingers.

‘What do you need?’ he asks again, and I slap at his hands, frustrated by the way he keeps repeating himself. Cold. Calculating.

‘You spy on me all fucking day. You fucking know exactly what I need.’

He swallows heavily, then turns his gaze away from me once more. His large, clawed feet try to move back, but I follow, crowding him, forcing him to face me.

‘Admit,’ I demand.

His breath deepens, his ears fluttering.

I want to reach out and grab his face, to force him to look at me, but I don’t. For some reason, I want him to be the one to touch me. I want to feel him break.

‘What do you need?’ he asks again, his signs clipped, a slight tremble in his wrists as he moves.

‘Tell me. I want you to say it.’

He inhales, and then his rainbow eyes hit mine. I feel it like a punch to my gut, the despondency, the isolation, the agony I’ve been through since meeting him and more so since arriving here on Erethar.

My arms wrap around my torso, and I bend forward, trying to keep the agonized sound I want to make inside. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, and I groan as his hands move.

‘I don’t want to make it worse.’ My brow furrows in anger. ‘I don’t want to add to any of this…’

The wave of sadness pulses through me, and I lose the ability to breathe. It’s not me any longer. It’s him. I feel him.

Everything. The fear, the anguish. It tangles around my ribcage and tightens.

‘Stop,’ I manage to sign when I can’t take any more. It’s just a flick of my hand toward him, but it’s enough.

And then it’s silent, like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. My lungs fill with a deep inhale, and I stand, feeling jittery, like I just came out of the other side of a panic attack. My skin is cold, and my arms feel heavy.

I want to curl up and sleep.

But I don’t want to do any of that alone.

‘What do you need?’ he asks me again, and this time my shoulders sag.

‘I want to sleep with you. Just for tonight. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I’m tired of being alone…’ My hands waver, then I add, ‘and so are you.’ Because he is. When he’s not careful, that feeling comes off him in tidal waves.

I expect him to deny me, to turn me away, but instead, he moves toward the bed, his hand running along the cushioning plant he sleeps on. It reaches toward him, cradling his hand.

‘Sleep and nothing more,’ he replies, and my heavy legs carry me forward, the plant curling around me. Then he places a sheet over me, cool and comforting. This is like no fabric made on Earth. It’s not what’s on my bed.

Did the man in that picture in that hidden room sleep between the sheets I’m using? Was this his space too?

Eissa must feel what I am because his eyes are dark now, his gaze shuttered.

I wait for him to leave me once more, to sequester himself somewhere in this house, but instead, he tucks me in and then lowers himself down next to me, his large body pressed against mine.

I stiffen, unsure of what to do.

‘No,’ he signs, the motion small between us. ‘After…’

Him. The word rushes into my head along with his image, but it only lasts a second.

I feel him shudder. ‘They gave me this place as a gift.’