Page 35 of Rainse
I closed my eyes and tried to breathe, to analyse, to think. The scientist in me demanded structure — cause, effect, explanation. The woman in me only wanted to feel the next kiss.
Maybe both were right.
“You’re thinking very loudly,” he said.
I smiled without opening my eyes. “Occupational hazard. Scientists overanalyse everything.”
He came to stand beside me, close but not touching. The restraint in that was almost unbearable. “Do you regret it?”
I turned to face him. The sunlight caught the faint shimmer of his greenskin, the subtle movement of it in the wind, like kelp swaying under a current. He looked impossibly beautiful — familiar and strange all at once.
“No,” I said honestly. “That’s the problem.”
Something flickered across his expression — relief, maybe, or hunger. “Good.”
I shook my head, half laughing, half on the edge of another disaster. “You can’t just— you can’t kiss me like that and expect me to think straight.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to think at all,” he said softly.
And there it was again — that quiet confidence, the heat beneath the calm. I wanted to be angry at him for it, but I couldn’t. He wasn’t playing a game. He was just being honest.
The bond pulsed between us, low and steady. I wondered if he felt it the same way I did — like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing that jumping would feel like flying, even if you might drown after.
“I need time,” I said finally. “To understand what this is.”
He nodded once, solemn. “You’ll have it. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
I believed him. That was the terrifying part.
When he turned back toward the resort, the sunlight caught him again — scales glinting, shoulders broad, strength and softness in equal measure. I watched him go, my heart a chaotic mess of logic and longing.
I had every reason to walk away.
And not a single desire to do it.
I somehow made it back to my bungalow before the emotions caught up with me.
Inside, I closed the door and leaned against it, pressing my fingers to my lips. They still tingled from his kiss.
What was I doing?
I walked to the window and stared out at the ocean. Somewhere out there was the Minerva. My colleagues. My research. The life I'd spent years building.
And I was ready to throw it away for an alien I'd known for less than a week.
Was I insane?
I pulled out the tablet I’d been given and scrolled through my emails. Dozens of messages. Questions about data. A reminder about the conference paper I was supposed to submit next month. An email from my university supervisor asking how the expedition was going.
My life. My real life.
I sat on the edge of the bed and made myself think it through.
The facts: I'd nearly died. Been rescued by an alien. Been kept on an island against my will—no, that wasn't fair. He'd protected me when I was injured. There was a difference.
But was there?
He'd made choices for me. Decided I couldn't handle the swim. Decided I needed to be kept separate from everyone else until... what? Until I fell for him?
