Page 46 of Taken to Kor
They also come in all colors I’ve seen and many more I’ve never imagined. Red like the colony’s dust, as brown as bark but lighter and stilldifferentthan my own shade, yellow like the sun, pale peach and an even paler, almost translucent white. Some are colors that are crosses between grey-brown and black-red and red-yellow and, above all else, grey.
There are Niahhorru everywhere, not including the ones clustered around us. I don’t know if they’re following with intent, but ever since we landed on the surface, we’ve had a small contingent of pirates I recognize following us.
A male I recognize as Tevbarannos is watching me from the tent across the…road? Walkway? Path?…from where I’m standing. He’s drinking something neon green out of an enormous bottle. When I catch his gaze, he fumbles the bottle, catches it, and his plates lift in a telltale sign of embarrassment. He waves at me and I laugh as I wave back.
Suddenly, Rhork is switching in between Tevbarannos and me and is pulling something soft over my head. Meanwhile, the blanket I’m wearing as a dress is torn up the front to the neck and ripped away. It flutters to the ground at my feet while whatever Rhork’s holding flutters around my ankles. Before it fully lands, there are more hands than just his four tugging and pulling the material in every direction. Eshmiri are everywhere, at least ten of them, laughing hysterically as they poke and prod and push and cut and trim… Wait a stitch… Are they fitting me into clothing?
Yes. They are.
They move back in a flourish and I’m left standing in a grey tunic and grey pants. There’s a thick leather belt around the middle that somehow manages to push my stomach up into my throatandmake me feel like I’m vomiting at the same time.
“You don’t like it?” Rhork says, hiding his grin behind his hand.
Embarrassment flutters over me and I frown at him. “I…” I’m fat and I don’t like that the belt brings attention to it.
Except…
I glance around. What is fat? The thought strikes so suddenly, it almost makes me laugh. Instead, I manage a snort much less attractive than the snorting laughter Rhork manages to pull off.
“What?” He says, still smiling even though his brows are pulled together and the skein still covers his eyes. It makes it harder to tell what he’s thinking when the skein is down. I like it better when it’s open, revealing silver eyes that are easy to be devoured by. Contrary to my feeling towards carpet people, I rather enjoy being devoured by him.
“I…” I’mnotfat. Well, maybe I am in Human, but I’m not in the human world anymore and here, there doesn’t seem to be a word for fat. Heck, I don’t even know what the word for fat is in Meero. Maybe it doesn’t exist.
Maybe it doesn’t exist.
Maybe there’s no such thing. After all, what is fat on a planet where there is no such thing as thin? Where everyone is all shapes — literally — circles, sticks, triangles and much more…fluid, amorphous things. What is fat when Rhork looks at me like that? Like I’m hilarious and maybe evenpretty.I gulp at the terrifying thought, then quickly chuck it aside. It’s too unmanageable. No, Rhork, maybe he doesn’t think I’m pretty, but maybe he doesn’t need to.
He looks at me like I’m someone worth standing beside.
And he’s not fat. But he’s not…skinny either. I frown as my gaze caresses the wholly daunting way he’s built. He doesn’t look like any of the colony boys, whose arms are twiggy and their bellies are either lean and wiry like Jaxal’s or so concave you can see ribs. He’s not skinny…
Holy cosmosy.
What if I’mnotfat because I’mnotfat? What if the rest of the humans are too thin?
“Deena, do I need to carry you out of here or do you anticipate answering the Eshmiri anytime in the next eon?”
“AM I FAT!” I shout.
Rhork starts. “This word you’re saying is not translating properly. You’re asking me if you’re unhealthy?” He balks, “How should I know how you feel.”
“Feel?”
He shakes his head and approaches me, pushing through the Eshmiri who are insisting that the garment is perfectly tailored and that I’m out of my mind. To the first point, they’re definitely wrong because this thing is uncomfortable as all getout, but to the latter point, they’re spot on.
He places his hands on my waist and frees the belt clasps, which zing with energy when he does. He throws the belt over his shoulder and caresses my belly — myfat. “Why do you ask and what has that got to do with these clothes?”
“No — centare — not that. I…I mean this.” I slide my hands over his hands on my hips, then massage them around my front in a way I don’t mean to be erotic, but decidedly is.
He’s still giving me a funny look — half smile, eyebrows still both raised — only now his nostrils are slightly flared and the fingers of his free hands are reaching to join the first. He slides his hands around my lower back and pulls me to him until we’re nearly flush. “Ontte, the fabric is very nice, but without the belt it won’t protect you in a battle.” His gaze drops to mine. He swallows. “I guess that just means you’ll have to stay close.”
“I…I don’t mind.” My voice cracks. My hands tense around his hands around my waist. I’m desperately trying to decide if I should push his hands lower to my thighs or pull them higher to my tits.
The corner of his mouth jerks. His gaze swims lower to my chest and then to my stomach where the fat is supposed to be. But he isn’t looking at it like it’s out of place. Heck, he doesn’t even look at myleglike it’s messed up, even though I know that it is. There must be something wrong. Something that he’s hiding.
Only, that doesn’t sound right either. Maybe he just…doesn’t mind. But then why, on the colony, did he call me defective?She’s not even worth the ebo it would take to keep her fed.
I pull away first.
