Page 47 of Eat My Moon Dust
“It’s called coding…” Hunar said, trailing off at the end. When I turned around, he was staring at the bag of flour I’d dropped. “What’s that? Something you need worked on?”
“Oh! Uh, no. Just a personal project.” I dipped down and shoved the flour into my bag. I couldn’t let him near it. According to the clinic,birianuts weren’t lethal but did cause stomach pains and gnarly ulcers. No way I wanted Hunar to get it all over his hands and then go home to his spats.
“I can help with personal projects,” he insisted.
“You already are, Hunar. It’s okay.” I stood and found him leaning towards me, shoulders strung so tight, he practically shook. When I bumped the garland he was still holding and squeaked in surprise, he leaned back with a breath that ended in those bass clicks.
“Sorry,” he winced. “Maybe you should stand further back.”
I shuffled towards Bajora’s side of the room and Hunar bared his teeth.
“Not–”he snapped, then took another calming breath. “Not that way. By my locker would be more… comfortable.”
I shuffled towards the row of red, my hands out where he could see them. He chuffed bitterly. Snatching a thick band from his workbench, he corralled his tendrils into two fists, except for his red-stripedsenti.They were shorter, so he lifted them up, securing the band at the back of his crown where a human might tie their man bun. “Sorry for scaring you.”
“It’s okay. I’m not that scared,” I promised, pink tinging my cheeks. “How are you feeling?”
Hunar’s brow creased. He shook his head like a human. “What you did isn’tbad,Tinsley. I’m not struggling, and you didn’t hurt me. Yourevivedme. Fuck, I feel like I could swim a league in ten beats.”
“So you’re not mad at me… And I didn’t trap you, right?” I bit my lip hard, wringing my hands together. “I was really worried when I left the other day, you know?Everything I’ve thought up has been a disaster for you.”
“No, I chose,” he said with confidence. A clamp on my sternum eased and I breathed a sigh of relief. “And yeah, you’re usually a disaster, but I don’t know…” Hunar chuckled with genuine, baffled amusement, nodding at the decorations that surrounded us.“Krismisis growing on me.”
If I’d had stripes, they would have pulsed at his gleaming smirk. I swallowed a lump in my throat, glancing at the poorly made Octopus bag.
“And I’m sorry.”
“What?” I fumbled.
“Your taste is driving me insane,” he hissed, licking the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t look at me, so instead he neatly wound the garland around his hand and elbow. “New coils are hard to manage, and it’s been a long time. I owe you my health right now, and my body knows it. So this whole scheme… It’s gonna be fucking hard, Tin. I’ll get agitated and territorial since we’re not–” He stopped, glancing at me to see if I understood without him saying the words.
“I know.”
“I just want to be upfront. I’ll be a shithead sometimes, even if I try not to.”
“It’s not like I have a line of boyfriends waiting,” I assured him, cocking one hip.
Hunar hung the garland from the back of a chair. “Also, my spats know about us. What we’re doing.”
My smile slipped. Somehow, the news that they were in on the ruse stung. “Oh, right. Of course.”
“Their maan…” He cleared his throat. “They needed to know that wasn’t happening again.”
Duh.Was I a horrible person or what? I reprimanded myself in silence. Of course they needed to know. But what did it say about me that I wanted someone other than Zufi to drink the Kool-Aid?
“Were they alright with it?”
Hunar’s mane twisted around their band, reaching forward above his crown. It was unfamiliar, seeing Hunar’s face without them down to frame it. The stripes on his neck were like tattoos, as if the red ink had spilled from hissentito coat his throat.
“Yeah, they’re fine.”
I bit my lip, running my hand over my bag. Not to feel the flour, but the other sealed package inside.
“I have another gift,” I stammered. “In case you need it for later.”
Hunar groaned and leaned his weight against his lower hands on the break table. He immediately subdued his tendrils, fisting the band holding them back, and closed his eyes, strained grooves carved into his brow as if he were in pain.
“Are you okay?” I gasped, rummaging around in my bag. “Here, I can give it–”
