Page 8 of Accidentally Abducted

Because if I'm going to accidentally audition for alien marriage, I might as well do it with someone who asks good questions.

Chapter Four

Zeph

I am experiencing what humans might call a "situation."

Jake is sitting across from me at the small table we moved to the common area, working his way through the pancakes we successfully created together, and making small sounds of appreciation that are doing very specific things to my nervous system. Every "mmm" of enjoyment sends heat cascading through my chest, and I am becoming increasingly concerned that he might notice the way my skin seems to be... reacting.

"These are actually really good," Jake says, cutting another bite with what appears to be genuine enthusiasm. "I mean, they're not going to win any awards, but they taste like actual food instead of nutritional paste."

"I am gratified that they meet with your approval," I say, though I am having difficulty concentrating on the conversation. The warmth in my chest is spreading, and I can feel the telltale tingle that precedes... complications.

Jake pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Are you okay? You look a little flushed."

I feel heat rise in my face, which only exacerbates the problem. "I am fine. Perhaps the ambient temperature requires adjustment."

"Huh." Jake sets down his fork and studies me with that direct gaze that seems to see more than I am comfortable revealing. "You know, I was wondering about something."

"Oh?" I attempt to sound casual while simultaneously trying to suppress the growing luminescence I can feel building beneath my skin.

"Earlier, when you were embarrassed about the pancake disaster, I could have sworn I saw..." He tilts his head, clearlytrying to work something out. "Do Nereidans change color when they're emotional? Because I thought I saw a kind of... glow."

My entire nervous system freezes. "Glow?"

"Yeah, like... just for a second, there was this golden light under your skin." Jake leans forward slightly, and his proximity makes the sensation in my chest intensify. "It was actually really beautiful."

Beautiful. He thinks my involuntary bioluminescent responses are beautiful, which is both deeply gratifying and absolutely mortifying, because now the glow is definitely becoming visible and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

"That is..." I begin, then realize that lying about basic Nereidan physiology is both pointless and potentially problematic for future interactions. "Yes. Nereidans do exhibit bioluminescent responses during periods of emotional intensity."

"Emotional intensity," Jake repeats, and there is something in his voice that suggests he understands exactly what kind of emotional intensity we are discussing. "So right now, when you're glowing like a very attractive night light, that means...?"

The warmth spreads from my chest down through my abdomen, and I know without looking that the golden luminescence is becoming increasingly obvious. "It means that I am experiencing... significant emotional stimulus."

"Emotional stimulus," Jake says slowly, his eyes fixed on what I can only assume is the growing glow emanating from my skin. "And what, specifically, is stimulating you emotionally right now?"

The directness of the question catches me completely off-guard. In Nereidans culture, one does not simply ask about another's bioluminescent responses. It is considered deeply personal, intimate information.

But Jake is not Nereidan, and his expression suggests genuine curiosity rather than prurient interest.

"You," I admit, because apparently honesty has become my default response to this human who asks impossible questions. "You are... stimulating me emotionally."

"Me," Jake says, and his voice has dropped to something lower and more intense. "Specifically what about me?"

I look at him, really look at him. His hair is still slightly messy from sleep, he has a small amount of pancake syrup on his lower lip, and he is watching me with an expression that suggests he knows exactly how he is affecting me and finds it fascinating rather than off-putting.

"The sounds you make when you eat," I say, my voice rougher than intended. "The way you concentrate when you are learning something new. The way you look at me like you are trying to solve a puzzle, but not because you want to fix me, because you want to understand me."

Jake's eyes widen slightly, and I notice that his breathing has changed. "Zeph..."

"The way you say my name," I continue, because apparently I have lost all capacity for appropriate social restraint. "The way you stand close to me when you are teaching me something, close enough that I can feel the heat from your skin. The way you make me want to be worthy of your attention, not because of compatibility algorithms or research protocols, but because I want to see you smile."

The glow is definitely visible now, I can see it reflecting in Jake's eyes, casting soft golden light across his features. He is staring at me with an expression I cannot fully decode, but it does not appear to be revulsion or fear.

"Jesus, Zeph," Jake says softly. "You can't just say things like that."

"Why not?"

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