Page 16 of Reluctantly Abducted
He nods, then gives me a considering look. "Actually, is this where you bathe too? I could use a shower or whatever you call it."
"What?" I can't keep the alarm from my voice. "No, you should use the cleansing facilities in your quarters."
"Haven't figured those out yet," he says with a shrug. "Besides, do you really want to spend the next two days with a stinky human? It's been over twenty-four hours since I've had a chance to clean up."
I stare at him, trying to determine if he's serious. His expression reveals nothing but casual practicality, though there's a hint of something I can't quite identify in his eyes.
"Fine," I finally say with a sigh of frustration. "But you have to stay on that side of the pool, and you need to turn your back while you get in."
"Deal." He grins, seeming far too pleased with himself.
"The cleansing bars are in the storage unit to your left," I add, pointing to the compartment. "The green ones are formulated to be compatible with human biochemistry."
Owen moves to the storage unit, retrieving one of the green bars. Then, without any apparent self-consciousness, he begins removing his clothing.
I immediately turn away, fixing my gaze on the far wall. Humans may have different social protocols regarding nudity, but I have no desire to observe his unclothed form. The sound of water displacement indicates he's entered the pool, and I allow myself to look back.
He's settled on the opposite side as promised, submerged to his shoulders. The cleansing bar floats beside him.
"This feels amazing," he says, his eyes closing briefly. "Perfect temperature."
"It's calibrated for Nereidan physiology," I inform him, still maintaining my distance. "The mineral content may feel different from Earth water."
"It's softer somehow. And I can feel a slight... I don't know, tingle? Is that the mineral thing you mentioned?"
"Yes. The ionic composition creates a mild bioelectric field that facilitates cellular regeneration and detoxification."
"Fancy bath salts," he says with a smile. "So how long can you stay underwater? I noticed you were completely submerged for a few minutes there."
The question catches me off-guard. I hadn't realized he'd been watching that long.
"I can breathe underwater for about twenty minutes before needing air again."
His eyebrows rise. "That's impressive. So you're basically amphibious?"
"Our ancestors were sea creatures not that long ago," I explain, finding myself slipping into lecture mode despite my discomfort with the situation. "We still have gill-like structures that work when we need them."
"That explains a lot about your ship design," he observes, glancing around. "The curved walls, the flowing lines. It's all very... fluid."
I'm surprised by his insight. "Yes. We like to reference our ocean origins in our buildings."
He uses the cleansing bar, creating a subtle iridescence in the water around him. The sight is strangely mesmerizing, the human's movements disrupting the carefully balanced mineral solution, creating swirls of light that interact with my own bioluminescence.
"Can all your people do the glowing thing?" Owen asks, nodding toward the patterns of light visible beneath my skin.
"We all have it, though the patterns and brightness vary between individuals," I explain. "It evolved as a way to communicate underwater, where talking doesn't work as well."
"So it's like body language?"
"More precise than that. Certain patterns mean specific things, warnings, territory claims, mating signals." Iimmediately regret mentioning the last example as another ripple of light cascades across my chest.
Owen's gaze follows the movement, but he mercifully doesn't comment on it. Instead, he asks, "Can you control it? Or is it mostly automatic, like blushing for humans?"
"Both. We can make specific patterns on purpose, but emotions trigger the involuntary ones." I hesitate, then add, "When you use that nickname, it automatically sets off a response."
"I've noticed," he says, his lips quirking upward. "That's why I keep doing it."
"I assumed as much."
