Page 49 of I'm Not Your Pet

Thoughts raced through my mind, possibilities twitching just out of reach as I mulled over what to ask Huu-goh next. Time was running out. I had Ushuu’s schedule memorized, just as I had everyone else’s, and I knew his break was coming to an end.

I didn’t want to get this wrong.

And while I suddenly found myself overwhelmed with the foreign urge to skip work for the day so that I could quiz Ushuu and Huu-goh, the crew deserved better. I had my own duties to attend to, and a tour to take my mate on.

I stared down at Huu-goh, mind spinning.

The smile he gifted me was the loveliest thing I’d ever seen. Prettier than the green skies back home. Prettier than open space. Prettier than the stars that glimmered just outside the hull of the command room where I spent most of my time. Prettier than the constellations my birth-father had pointed out to me in the inky sky above when I was just a boy.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, eyes stinging as I turned to Ushuu for one final time. His communicator buzzed like clockwork, indicating his break was over. I’d taken too long to think. He flashed me an apologetic frown before rising from his seat.

“Duty calls,” Ushuu said in our tongue again. “This was nice. We should do it again now that you’re not avoiding me.”

I nodded, though he was right—and it was relieving that he’d addressed the awkward situation so that I would not have to. He’d always been good at that, at putting me at ease.

“Maybe you can tell me laterwhyexactly that was,” Ushuu added. I nodded, because I would. Along with an apology. And a bottle of his favorite juice—bottles I kept in my room for birthdays and celebrations.

My food still sat mostly untouched on the metal table, but I figured there would be time to eat when he was gone. I nodded, spots coloring fuchsia in embarrassment.

“One last thing,” I murmured, as Ushuu tucked his communicator into his back pocket.

“Anything for you, Captain.” Ushuu’s tone was as easy-going as ever.

“Will you tell Huu-goh that he’s beautiful?” I asked. “And that I’m happy he’s happy.” My hearts wobbled. “And that I hope he knows that he’s safe with me.”

Ushuu nodded. His eyes flickered with affection as he looked at me. “I’ll tell him,” he promised, turning his attention back to Huu-goh to relay my message. Once again, I found myself waiting anxiously for his response. As he listened, Huu-goh’s expression shuttered and grew frighteningly blank for a moment as though he didn’t understand what Ushuu had said—even though it had been in his own language.

I didn’t know what to do withthatface.

I didn’t know what it meant.

“Bai bai,” Ushuu waved goodbye to the both of us.

“Bai bai,” Huu-goh replied, echoing the same words.

I watched Ushuu’s white-clad back in a daze as he left the cafeteria and headed down the corridor out of sight. Huu-goh’s face was still blank when I got over my own fear and looked down at him again. Though his expression was unreadable, his eyes were not. They swirled like storms as his lips wobbled.

“Thank yuu,” he said, voice soft. It felt like a century had passed, and my hearts stuttered to life again as I nodded, leaning down to bump our noses together. Surprising me, he movedhis hand to cup my jaw. I held still, frightened to even breathe as Huu-goh’s soft, soft lips pressed to the rubbery skin on my snout. I wasn’t sure what he was doing. A kiss, maybe?

It was different than the way we Sahrks kissed, but no less lovely.

I wanted to melt, but instead, I held still—unwilling to move for fear of breaking the moment, or accidentally catching him with my teeth.

“Yuu ahre…soh-sweet.” Huu-goh swallowed, stroking over my jaw as more tendrils slipped free of my surface to cup the back of his hand. They wrapped tight, pulsing rhythmically as they held his hand in place.

I didn’t know what “soh-sweet” meant.

But Huu-goh held me for a long, long time.

He kissed my snout again.

His eyes were warm with affection, that terrifying blankness gone. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that no one had ever called him beautiful before. Or maybe—it was the promise of safety that he had a hard time believing.

I could understand that.

But I knew with surety that I would never let him get hurt. I’d protect him. It felt inherently wrong to do anything else.

Huu-goh’s leash dangled, forgotten between us. As the last minutes of my afternoon break passed I wished desperately—with both my hearts—that we would be alright. That we could be happy, even though we were different. That all it would take was a little more time, and a lot more patience, but one day, we’d make a home with each other.

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