Page 57 of Citrine

Although I agreed to listen to her, the cost for her touch seems high when she hasn't done so. She looks more content with my presence and the occasional brushes she does against my skin.

It feels like I'm being taken advantage of, even though she is someone who cannot harm me even if she tried. Her docility and mercy are just some of the many reasons I consider her species to be ridiculous. The more she talks, the more out of place I feel. This place is already so strange, but her words add a layer of alienation, filling my head with more thoughts and even stranger emotions.

"Honestly, I have never seen trees this big! We had some big trees back on earth, but I feel like I can use some of the leaves from these trees as ablanket! Ablanket! Can you just believe how ludicrous that is? Honestly, not just the size of the trees is shocking, but the fact that I can breathe so comfortably here is, too. Trees back home assist inaerobic respirationusingoxygen, but it's hard to even tell if what I'm breathing in isoxygen. Um, oxygen is anelement… like a basicunitof all living beings. We're made up of things like that, from the biggestwhalesto the tiniestbugs. Speaking ofbugs, the bugs here are colorful, too…"

Things like that.

When she speaks, it's hard to tell what she's talking about, especially when she easily switches topics in the same breath, moistening her lips with fluid from inside her mouth. My eyes focus on her lips as she does that, my throat feeling strangely dry.

The sparkle of excitement grates on me and my mind wanders to how good her moist lips will taste if I take a bite out of them. My eyes wander down to her exposed, fair neck and my throat feels even dryer as my body shakes with an urge that is not quite hunger.

Not a bite out of them. Just a small bite and a long taste.

"Wroahk? Are you good?"

That ridiculous name.

I don't know why she keeps calling me that, even though it sounds nothing like what I keep telling her. I respond to her with a strangled grunt and deviate my gaze from her body. My mating tentacles feel the urge stronger than the rest of my body and my eyes start to wander again, this time to the place below her torso as my interest waxes stronger.

"You're not saying anything, even though you can speak better than a few grunts and growls."

"I do not have the capacity to speak endlessly like you," I reply in clipped clicks, taking my eyes away.

She frowns and leans closer. "That is ratherrude."

I don't know aboutrude, but I know I am right.

I don't respond to her, and she keeps on talking. She's chiding me, but her grasper hasn't made its way to my body. Even though that's why I'm waiting here, she refuses to touch me.

Her graspers are just a tentacle's length away, yet she's being careful with her actions, strangely stopping short of just brushing against me.

She's driving me mad.

I have an intense urge to just grab her grasper and force her to touch me. I want to relish yet again in the soft and serene feeling I felt when she touched me for the first time. Even though it affects my mating tentacles so much, I want to feel herkindtouch.

I crave it. I want it now.

I tilt my head to the side. "Is there more than justkindhands?"

She laughs. "Oh, a lot more. Even better things. But that's not something I'm offering… right now," she says, slapping her grasper over her mouth like she is trying to keep more words from escaping.

It pulls my attention sharp to her, since she seems to prefer if they flow as fast as possible.

Right now,she said. So maybe in the future.

Yet, as I watch this soft, small being, I remember her words. If I want herkindtouch, it cannot be taken by force. It must be given freely, which I find ridiculous.

Everything worth having is taken with force. Everything.

But, no, the one thing I crave is something I cannot have if I use my strength. It disturbs me, but the consequences of losing something fluttering so close to me is more terrifying. I watch her face soften as the subject of the conversation changes again.

"Mypadrewas one of the most uprightgentlemenI knew. He wassoftandkind, even when he didn't need to be. He alwayssays a female needs to be treated like aprincess." She looks happy, her voice trailing off as she immerses herself in yet another memory.

Suddenly I think I understand. It isn't about the number of her words, it is about something inside of her ready to give thatkindness.

"I remember one time I was talking about abookIreadto him and was telling him about how much I liked theauthor. He found out about abook signingand movedmountains, rearranging his entirework scheduleto be able to take me to thatbook signing. It was also on theweekendand as a child, I didn't realize it earlier, but he was exhausted from working all week and still took the time todriveme there. He often told me he wasproudof me and…" her voice breaks as her eyes softens even more.

"…I had done nothing worthy, yet he wasproudof me. He gave anything and everything just to make me happy."

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