TEN

- sedona -

Kuvier is nowhere to be seen. The fire isn't something that stays alive on its own in this cold though, so when I see it still blazing, I know he didn't leave too long ago. I stretch and pull myself up from the makeshift bed.

It's been a couple of days now since he saved me, and I've gotten oddly comfortable with him. Too comfortable, maybe. But there's something else, too. A weird, almost homey feeling when I think of Kuvier. I tell myself it's just a crush, a result of him being the only thing standing between me and certain death. Like some kind of Stockholm Syndrome, except he didn't do the kidnapping, but whatever.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Focus, Sedona. You need to figure out where Kuvier went. My stomach grumbles, and I realize I'm starving. Maybe he went to get food. We'd seemed low on the dried jerky he'd brought.

I wrap his cloak tightly around me. It's lost the scent of him, and I have to pretend that doesn't make me sad. I walk out from under the awning and peep into the endless snowscape. The air is crisp and cold as my eyes scan my surroundings. The sky is lit up—something I've learned does not change on this planet that apparently never experiences dark. With the suns reflecting against the snow, it's hard to see much of anything, but I definitely don't see a Kuvier-shaped form, so I head back in to sit by the fire.

I sit for maybe a few minutes before boredom gets the better of me. A brilliant thought crosses my mind. This would be the perfect time to wash up and feel more presentable. If there is one thing my mother ingrained in me as a child, it's that if you look good, you'll feel good. Right now, I really don't look good.

I spot the water pouch Kuvier left and decide to heat some up to pseudo-bathe. It takes some time, but soon enough, I have enough water for a bird bath and a relatively clean strip pulled off of my shirt to use as a washcloth. There's no soap, but this will have to do.

Tossing a few extra red reeds into the fire, I strip down to my raggedy bra and underwear, cringing as I realize that I don't recognize these clothes, definitely something those mantis aliens gave me. I try not to think about how they must've seen me naked to dress me in these, and instead I focus on the task at hand, dipping the pseudo washcloth into the lukewarm water.

I'm bent over, shivering only slightly, trying to use sheer force of will to exfoliate my ashy legs, when I hear a rustle and a sharp intake of breath behind me. Kuvier. Shit.

Snapping upright, I turn slightly, about to say something casual like, "Hey, I'm just finishing up," but the words die in my throat when I see his face.

He's standing there, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. I freeze, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed I am in just my bra and underwear. I curse silently at myself for not being more careful, and for not noticing his approach sooner.

For a moment, neither of us move. Part of me itches to cover myself. But a different, brazen part of me wins out, and I bask under his observation. His gaze flickers from my face, down my body and back up again, and I see something primal and hungry in his eyes. My cheeks flush with embarrassment, and something else—fear? Desire? I'm not sure.

Before I can say anything, he turns abruptly and stalks away, his shoulders tense and stiff. I let out a shaky breath, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. What was that?

I quickly finish washing up and scramble to get dressed. Once clothed, I wrap the furs back around me, my heart still racing. I wait for only a few minutes to see if he will come back, but then decide to go see if he's out there somewhere.

I take a deep breath and step outside cautiously, scanning the rocky terrain for any sign of Kuvier. Moving further into the outside, I finally spot him slightly behind me. There he is, sitting against the crate in the snow, focused on skinning some small creature that looks like a bizarre cross between a meerkat and a gopher. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I approach him, trying to muster up the courage to speak.

"Hey, Kuvier," I say tentatively, trying to keep my voice casual. "Go back? Inside? It's cold out here." I know it's a mix of words he knows and ones he might not, but he gets the gist. His expression is unreadable for a moment as he stands without a word or a look at me and leads the way back into the warmth of our makeshift shelter.

Once inside, I fidget nervously, not sure how to address what just happened. I haven't taught him apologies yet, so I don't think he'd understand mine. But, it feels so weird, this tension between us. I don't like it.

Kuvier cuts off my thinking, when he suddenly invades my space, his warmth infiltrating every exposed sliver of skin. I have to tip my head almost fully back to look at him, but his eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that sends a jolt through me. He takes another step closer until we are flush, chest to chest, and my breath is shaky in my lungs.

Slowly, almost reverently, he raises a clawed hand and runs it lightly along the curve of my jawline, down the slope of my neck, tracing the lines of my body with a feather-light touch. Every nerve in my body lights up at his touch, a tingling sensation spreading through me like wildfire. His nostrils flare slightly and a growl rumbles through his chest as his lids fall closed. His hands shift to grip me, one cupping my throat and one digging into my waist. His eyes are still closed and I stare up at him, wondering if he'll kiss. Wondering if I want him to. And then, too soon, he steps back, breaking the charged moment between us.

As he moves away, I can't shake the thought I absolutely wanted him to.