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I walked closer to him and lifted his hands.
“Your knuckles... they’re injured,” I said, looking at his large, strong hands.
Zorak glanced down at his scraped hands and shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“Let me help you,” I insisted, determined to repay his kindness. “Come back to my place, and I’ll patch you up.”
He hesitated for a moment but then nodded. “Okay. They are a tad on the painful side now, come to think about it,” he said as we made our way back to the cab.
“That’s a big sandwich,” Zorak remarked to the driver as we settled into the back seat.
“In life,” the driver said, “you’ll eat big sandwiches, and you’ll eat small sandwiches. But, it’s what’s inside them that counts.” And he put his foot fully down, and we shot off into the night.
I guided Zorak into my apartment’s living room and gestured for him to sit. “Wait here. I’ll get the first aid kit.”
“Thank you, Vanessa,” he said softly, making himself comfortable on the sofa. “For some reason, I’m really in the mood for a sandwich.”
I returned with the kit and knelt beside him, gently taking his hand. His skin was cool and smooth, an unexpected contrast to the warmth radiating from my own. I squeezed a dollop of antiseptic cream onto my fingers and carefully applied it to his wounds.
“Ouch!” he winced, trying to pull his hand away. “That stings!”
“Sorry! But it’s important to clean the cuts,” I explained, maintaining my grip on his hand. As I continued to treat his injuries, I couldn’t help but feel closer to him than ever before.
“Vanessa,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you follow me?”
“Because I wanted to. It felt like the right thing to do,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
He looked away for a moment as if unsure how to respond. But then he turned back to me, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
“Thank you for doing that,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving mine.
The warmth of Zorak’s hand in mine filled me with comfort I hadn’t felt in a long time. My heart raced as I looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and sincerity that lay behind his eyes.
“Zorak,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I think... I think we should...”
My words trailed off as I leaned forward, seeking to bridge the gap between us. Our lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss – our first since the night we’d hooked up when everything had been so different. His taste was intoxicating, a mix of sweet and spicy flavors that sent a shiver down my spine.
“Vanessa,” Zorak murmured against my lips, his breath warm and inviting. But then, to my surprise, he gently pulled away from our embrace.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice. A part of me hoped this could be the start of something more between us.
“Nothing’s wrong.” He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “But we should take things slow.”
“Really?” I blinked, taken aback by his sudden restraint. He seemed so different from the Zorak I’d known before, the one who’d never hesitated to dive headfirst into any situation.
“Yes, we went from zero to ten before. I’d like to try out all the other numbers as well.” He spoke with a boyish honesty that touched me.
“Okay,” I said. “What number would you like to try first?”
I watched as he genuinely thought about it.
“Let’s start at a three,” Zorak said enthusiastically.
“Okay, number three it is,” I replied.
I watched as he took a deep breath.
“Would you like to go to a Zukti food festival with me tomorrow?” he asked, his eyes shining with hope. “I think it would be fun, and they have some of the best sandwiches in the galaxy.”
