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This is... not good.
As I watched Sophie move away into the crowds of evening shoppers, I heaved a sigh, cracking my knuckles. Having a new co-worker I wasn’t used to in my space was bad enough. Having one I was quickly realizing that I was startlingly attracted to was even worse.
Having her in the tiny space had been almost painful. It would have been so easy to cage her in against the shelves, pinning her softness with my body...
Get a grip. A human girl like that has no interest in an ex-member of the Chimera Guard like you.
I’d been with other women before, even human ones, but they’d all been able to immediately look past my fearsome looks. Even more than that, I got the impression that my appearance, and my reputation, actually got some of them off. I’d had more than one woman specifically seek me out for physical companionship on this station, but they’d always been quick, meaningless flings with travellers stopping over at the station for short periods of time. Never had a dalliance with a woman ever developed into anything more, nor had I wanted it to.
I tried to imagine having such a short, physical encounter with Sophie, and felt my hide pull away from my fangs in disgust. No, I had no interest in something meaningless like that with her. Sophie was the kind of girl you wooed into oblivion before being lucky enough to taste her sweetness. And considering that we were coworkers, and that I wasn’t even looking for any kind of relationship to begin with, that obviously wasn’t going to happen.
No, this was just a passing attraction. Something physical to work through and push way down. I ignored the fact that it wasn’t just the sweet features of her face and the lush curves of her body that attracted me, but also a bright sort of spirit that I could already sense beneath it all. Because if I acknowledged that side of things, I’d have to acknowledge that my attraction to her was potentially more than just physical. And for a little human I had only just met... Well... that just made no sense.
I strode away from the shop, grinding my fangs. I’d go work out, get something to eat, then sleep whatever this was off so that I could focus and be a goddamned professional tomorrow.
––––––––
ONLY, IT WAS EVEN WORSEthe next day.
I arrived at the shop at 9 am station-time to get everything prepared for opening. I only required about two hours of sleep a night, and had was hard-wired for hard work. I’d been trying, with no success, to get Shelly to extend the shop’s hours just so that I’d have something to do with my spare time, but her soft human sensibilities wouldn’t support me working any longer than my current 11-hour shifts. And even those 11 hours, I’d had to fight for.
I got to work placing the fresh-baked pastries, muffins, scones, and cookies on the shelves, restocking, and getting the hot water ready. And the whole fucking time, my eyes kept wandering to the old-Earth analog clock above the door. There was an obnoxious thrum in my chest that I couldn’t quite shut up.
Ten minutes before opening, she appeared, this time striding purposely towards the shop instead of peeking furtively at it, at me, from behind the tree across from the window in the aisle. A holographic ad popped up in front of her, and I couldn’t stop myself from snorting when she flinched away from it, her dark brows shooting up. But then, as if hardening herself with her own brand of human strength, she plunged through the ad. She looked mightily pleased with herself as she did so. And I tried to ignore how charming that was.
“You’re early,” I said, opening the top portion of the glass door and leaning out over the counter as she approached. For a moment, it felt like I was leaning out of a big, dark house, trying to coax a bright and fluttering bird into my palm.
“Of course!” she said cheerily, almost chirping, doing nothing to dispel the bird image in my head. But now, as my eyes dragged over her, I had to admit there was definitely nothing bird-like about her appearance. Her cheeks were flushed from her walk over, her eyes alight. Her hair looked smoother and shinier than it had last night and was pulled into a bun at the back, accentuating her slim, pale neck. She was wearing dark leggings similar to yesterday’s, tight against her shapely legs, but had forgone her holo-top for a simple, plain white shirt. I nodded approvingly at the outfit, so similar to my own, trying to keep my eyes off the way that her shirt pulled against her breasts and nipped in at her waist.
“Well, let’s get started,” I said.
The first customer would be here any minute. Since Sophie was here now, we might as well get some training in before that happened.
I opened the bottom portion of the door for her, and she slipped past me, smelling maddeningly sweet. I passed her the tablet she’d be using.
“You’re going to be dealing with the customers at the window. The entire menu is on this tablet. When they order, you select what they want on here, and their order will show up for me here.” I pointed a claw at the screen built into the espresso machine.
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” she said, pursing her lips, her little human nose crinkling as she looked down at the tablet in concentration. Then she looked up, her eyes, large by human standards, meeting mine.
“Will I need to learn to make the drinks, too?”
“That will take too long,” I said with a shake of my head. “It takes a while to learn to steam the different kinds of milk properly and get the recipes just right. You won’t be here for long enough to make that kind of training worthwhile.”
Her brows furrowed.
“But what about when you’re not working? Will Shelly come those days and make the drinks?”
“I work every day,” I said, slipping a black apron over my head. As I did so, the strap that was meant to go around my neck got caught on one of my horns.
“For the Empire’s sake,” I swore. A tiny trill of a laugh below me made me still, the sound slipping under my skin.
“Bend down and I’ll help you,” Sophie said, still laughing.
“Hmph.” My first reaction was to tell her no, that I’d do it myself. Really, a hardened intergalactic warrior getting tripped up by the strap of an apron was almost shameful. But Sophie was looking at me expectantly, her white fingers outstretched, and I found myself bowing down to them, to her. Tension shuddered through me as her shockingly soft fingertips traipsed along the length of my left horn. My horns were hard and black, not hide-covered like the rest of me, but they still had nerve endings. And those nerve endings were alight with her touch, now.
Is it just me, or is this taking longer than it should?
