Page 34 of Reluctantly Abducted
I press the panel.
After a moment, the door slides open. Owen stands there in the loose human sleep clothes we provided. His hair is messy, but his eyes are alert. He wasn't sleeping.
"Ry'eth?" he says, looking surprised to see me.
"I—" The words stick in my throat. Why am I here? What can I possibly say? "Thank you. For the drink."
"Hot chocolate," he says with a small smile. "Or close enough with your fancy synthesizer. You okay? You seemed... off at dinner."
"I can't write my report," I admit, which is true, though not the whole truth.
"Can't sleep either?"
"Haven't tried," I say. "My mind won't slow down."
Owen looks at me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Want to come in? I can't stop thinking either. Company might help us both."
Relief washes through me, and I know my skin is lighting up again. I can't hide it, not from him. "If you don't mind."
"Never," he says, stepping aside to let me in.
The room is just as sparse as when he arrived - there's nothing here except what we provided for him. The only sign of his presence is the rumpled bed, which looks like he's been tossing and turning.
"Working late?" he asks, nodding at my still-full cup of hot chocolate.
"Trying to," I admit. "Not getting anywhere."
"Same," he says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Been trying to relax, but my brain won't shut up."
"What are you thinking about?" I ask, then immediately regret it. "Sorry, that's too personal."
"Just thinking about tomorrow," he says, saving me from my awkwardness. "Going back to Earth. Back to... whatever comes next."
"Have you decided what you'll do? After the military?" I remember him talking about trying to find his place in civilian life.
Owen shrugs, but I can see the uncertainty in his eyes. "Haven't found anything that feels right. Nothing that uses what I know in a way that matters." He pauses, looking at me intently. "What about you? Back to saving ecosystems?"
"Yes," I say automatically. "There's a restoration project in the northern archipelago that needs attention."
"Sounds important."
"It is," I say. "The ecosystems there are especially sensitive to—" I stop myself. I'm hiding in work details again. "Yes. It's important."
We fall quiet. Not an uncomfortable silence, but there's so much we're not saying. Owen sits down on one of the cushions, and I join him, careful to leave space between us.
"So," he says after a while, "you going to tell me what's really bothering you? Because I'm pretty sure it's not just your report."
His directness catches me off guard. I take a sip of hot chocolate while I try to find the right words.
"I'm having... feelings. About tomorrow," I finally say. "About the assessment ending."
Owen tilts his head. "What kind of feelings?"
"I don't want it to end," I admit, the words coming out in a rush. "I don't want to follow the protocol. I don't want—" I take a breath. "I don't want you to go."
There. I said it. I can't take it back now.
Owen watches me for what feels like forever. "I thought we agreed this was just an assessment. That we both wanted to go our separate ways after."
