Page 23 of Taken to Lemora
“You…” He clears his throat. “You’re sure you like the pants?” He holds the sides out away from his thighs and I’m surprised, given the size of his thighs, that his pants are so large.
But I’m not going to tell him that! I snort, cough to cover it, and then blurt, “You are a very striking male…”
“Pagh!” He shouts, body jolting with the sound. “I know what I look like. I was asking you about the pants. Do you like them?”
“Nob!” I squeak. “Nob, I…” I gasp, and then realizing that I’ve just insulted this male, I snort nervously.
The sound seems to please him though, because his lips jerk up into a smile.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”
His smile falls just as quickly as it surfaced and I wonder what I’ve done to ruin it. I’m starting to wonder if everything that Igmora taught me wasn’t just a little bit…wrong.
“Nob. Say what you mean. I know you meant it.” He crosses his arms over his chest and manages to look oddly more comfortable. “Could you fix them?”
“Your pants? Yeffa, of course.”
One of his brows lifts and his eyes narrow, but I have no idea why he’d be skeptical. It’s the female’s job.
Isn’t it?
I shake my head, trying to seem certain and less confused by this interaction — and all of our interactions. “Nob, I do mean it. I would be happy to help you tailor your garments. I tailored this dress this past lunar. Providing you with a garment more suited to your shape would be my pleasure.”
And it would. Sewing is one of the few skills that Igmora insisted I perfect that I actually enjoyed. “I’ve been sewing since before I can remember. Since I was a kit,” I offer, though I don’t know why. He doesn’t care about my childhood…
“You like to stitch?”
I nod.
He relaxes further. “Igmora let you?”
“She insisted, actually. She was the one who taught me herself. I always actually liked those moments. I felt like I got to actually see her a little bit. Most of the time, she was just…she is just…cold.”
He nods and frowns, but I don’t get the sense he’s displeased with me. So then, why am I so nervous? I lick my lips and shuffle uncomfortably. He licks his lips. He has such full lips. I wonder if they’re as tough as the rest of him or if they’re able to be gentle. I think they are. I think he is.
I feel myself heat and quietly clear my throat.
“Did she treat you…okay? As a kit, I mean?”
My fists clench automatically. I struggle to hold his gaze and find myself looking out of the wide open doorway — and then through the open doorways of the outer walls of his fort — at the mossy hills that spread out into the distance and the roads that wind across them.
“There were some good times.” There were three. “Like when Igmora bought me my first stitching device.”
“What kind?”
“Wh…what?”
“What kind of device? Was it a machine or a wand?”
“Oh. It was a wand.”
“Can I get one for you? Would that please you?” His voice is tinged with just a hint of desperation.
It makes me smile. It also makes my heart beat faster and my insides scrunch up together tight.It’s the female’s job to please the male. That’s what Igmora always said. But right now, if I’m not totally delusional, it seems like this male is trying to pleaseme.
“Yeffa. It would please me immensely. I can do double the work in half the time. I’d have probably gotten more sleep last lunar, too.” I snort when I laugh and his eyes go wide.
I wonder if I’ve said something wrong, but the corner of his mouth twitches and his bulky arms squeeze even tighter over his massive chest.
