Page 89 of I'm Not Your Pet

I’d never really been important before. It was a new feeling, and one I was still learning how to process. It was nice though. Really nice.

Overwhelming too—but, this wouldn’t be the first time I came to terms with something overwhelming. It would, however, maybe be the first time that the overwhelming thing had turned out to be good.

“He’s grabbing a few things, then he’ll be here to collect you.” Ushuu—to his credit—never acted annoyed with my repeated questions. Most of the time he lookeddelightedactually, kinda like I was an overgrown puppy and he thought I was adorable.

It was the way I’d expected Roark to look at me, but he never had.

Which reminded me of a burning question I was dying to ask him.

After all that had happened, I had come to the conclusion that I wasn’t Roark’s pet.

At first I’d thought so, but to be fair I’d had no frame of reference for the way he had treated me. In my experience dogswere the ones that were petted, given treats, and cherished. Children were for scolding and ignoring. And partners were for cheating and betraying. I hadn’t fit into either of the last two categories, so I’d used scientific theory to eliminate them.

Only now the evidence pointed in a different direction entirely.

Hope was a scary, slippery thing. It wasn’t something I’d allowed myself to feel often since the day I turned sixteen and realized just how little I mattered. But with every passing day I spent in Roark’s company, it became easier and easier to forget why I’d lost it in the first place. Optimism had been the only reason I’d survived as long as I had alone, but behind my smiles, I’d still never let myself dream that I would ever be loved by someone else. That I would ever be valued or cared for or respected.

Until recently.

There was no denying that Roark didn’t make me feel inconsequential.

Roark didn’t make me feelinvisible.

I wasn’t replaceable, ignorable, or forgettable.

He saw me—he had, from the very first day we’d been together.

He respected me.

He trusted me.

Maybe I was naive and inexperienced when it came to real relationships—but I had eyes. And a heart. I could feel the way he reached for me, even when he wasn’t physically at my side. Like his heart called to mine no matter how far apart we were. I could feel that things had evolved between us. Like we shared the same gravitational pull.

When Ushuu had broken the news that Roark planned to take me out on a date, I swear time stopped. The world spun. My axis tilted.

Everything I’d ever known was rewritten in that single, precious moment. Most people didn’t take their pets on dates or shopping sprees, right? They didn’t sleep wrapped around each other. They didn’t shower together. Brush their teeth together. They didn’t learn an entire new language just to communicate.

Maybe partners could be treated gently?

Maybe lovers could be cherished?

Maybe my parents had taught me wrong?

Because if Roark was taking me on a “date” it meant we were something special, didn’t it? It wasn’t confirmation that Roark felt as strongly for me as I felt for him, but it was close enough. Close enough, despite my best efforts, a new seed of hope was planted in my heart.

It was barely a bud, just pushing through the soil, but it was there.

And it grew with every day that had passed since then. It grew as our date approached, and I let myself imagine what forever would be like with the big pink alien by my side. There was so much I didn’t know about him. So many things I’d been dying to learn. At first, the questions would’ve been mostly scientific.

Why his people were pastel, for one.

Why they were gelatinous?—?

How it was possible they had tendrils at all.

Two cocks. For what purpose!?

But as time passed the questions changed.

---