Page 12 of Fairy's Forbidden Touch
After Maya left for work, I texted Thalen using the strange crystal communication device he’d given me. It looked like a regular smartphone to human eyes but functioned on what he called “resonance patterns” rather than cell signals. The screen shimmered slightly when I used it, and the text appeared to float above the surface rather than on it.
My cousin’s away this weekend. Want to come to my place and watch movies? Human cultural education.
His reply came almost instantly:
I would be most interested in this cultural exchange. What time shall I arrive?
We arranged for him to come over Friday after my shift. I spent the rest of the day cleaning Maya’s apartment, hiding the more embarrassing family photos, and making a list of potential movies. What do you show someone who’s never seen a film before? Start with classics? Or something modern with better special effects?
By the time Friday night arrived, I was uncharacteristically nervous. Thalen had never been to a human home before, and I suddenly saw Maya’s apartment through new eyes—the mismatched furniture, the peeling paint in the kitchen, the general smallness of it all compared to his elegant, spacious residence.
I needn’t have worried. When Thalen arrived precisely at the agreed time, he looked around with genuine curiosity rather than judgment.
“This is where you reside?” he asked, examining the family photos on the wall.
“Temporarily,” I explained. “I’m staying with my cousin until I find my own place.”
He nodded, continuing his inspection of the living room. He was dressed more casually than I’d ever seen him—though “casual” for Thalen still meant perfectly tailored trousers and a silk shirt, just without the elaborate jacket and accessories he usually wore. His hair was in a simpler braid today, draped over one shoulder.
“You look nice,” I told him, unable to resist reaching out to touch the silk of his shirt. After two weeks of exploration, touching him had become more natural, though I still marveled at the privilege of being able to do so.
He smiled, a real smile that transformed his usually serious face. “As do you.”
I glanced down at my worn jeans and faded band t-shirt. “I’m practically in rags compared to you.”
“I find your attire fascinating,” he said sincerely. “Especially these… images.” He traced the faded logo on my shirt. “They tell stories about you.”
That was such an unexpectedly sweet observation that I had to kiss him. He responded eagerly, his arms sliding around my waist with practiced ease. These past two weeks had seen him grow increasingly comfortable with physical affection, sometimes seeming to crave it after a lifetime of deprivation.
“So,” I said when we finally separated. “Movie night. I’ve got a few options.” I gestured to the selection I’d queued up on Maya’s streaming account. “We’ve got action, comedy, romance… any preferences?”
Thalen looked at the TV screen with interest. “I defer to your expertise. What would be an appropriate introduction to human cinema?”
I ended up choosing “The Princess Bride”—figuring its mix of humor, action, and romance made it a good starter film. As we settled onto the couch, Thalen immediately pressed against my side, seemingly determined to maintain physical contact.
“There are rules to watching movies,” I told him with mock seriousness. “First, no talking during important parts. Questions can be asked during pauses. Second, snacks are mandatory.”
I produced the popcorn I’d prepared, along with some of the honeyed wine Thalen had introduced me to, which was apparently a common fae beverage.
“And third,” I continued, “cuddling is strongly encouraged.”
That earned me another of those rare smiles as he deliberately moved closer, his arm sliding around my shoulders.
The movie began, and I watched Thalen’s face more than the screen. His expressions were fascinating—surprise, amusement, confusion all flitting across features that had seemed so impassive when I first met him. He asked occasional questions, clearly trying to follow the “no talking” rule, but sometimes couldn’t contain his curiosity about human behaviors or film conventions.
“So the grandfather is telling a story within the story we are watching?” he clarified during one pause.
“Exactly. It’s a framing device.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “We have similar structures in fae storytelling, though without the visual component.”
When we reached the famous “as you wish” revelation, I glanced over to see Thalen watching with unexpected intensity.
“That is… quite romantic,” he commented. “To conceal such feelings in plain speech.”
“It’s become a bit of a cultural reference,” I explained. “People say it to mean ‘I love you’ without saying it directly.”
Something flickered in his expression, but before I could interpret it, his attention returned to the screen.
