Chapter 44

Lily

"Yes, I would enjoy attending this food contest with you," Ravok replies, his tone even and warm, but I'm starting to understand him better. I can tell he is as aware of the limited time we have left as I am – we both want to squeeze as much joy and companionship out of every millisecond we have left together. Ravok is able to say more with one word and a look than most people do with a monologue.

The need to stuff a lifetime of experiences into each moment rides me.

Movement from inside the hardware store catches my eye. I watch as Anton appears in the front window. He locks the front door and flips over the closed sign. His friendly, crinkled eyes squint when he spots us still in the parking lot. He dips his chin in acknowledgment, a wave of his hand accompanying a warm smile before he turns away, vanishing into the now-dark store.

"Okay, let's go check it out. Let's leave the car here. It's away from the crowd, so we can get out of here quickly if necessary."

As I reach for the car door to get out, Ravok stops me with a hand on my arm. When I turn back to him, worried that I've pushed him into something he's uncomfortable doing, he immediately washes away my concerns and gently cups my cheeks in his large hands. I can feel his regard as he stares at me but all I can see is my reflection in sunglasses. Just as I'm about to say something, Ravok clears his throat, "Leelee… I want to say thank you. For helping me get these batteries; for saving my life; for taking care of me when I was injured; for everything. I don't know if I can truly explain how much what you've done for me means or how much you mean to me. You've changed my life. Thank you, Leelee."

My throat feels hot and tight at his heartfelt words. I wish I could see his eyes.

"Ravok," I whine softly. I give a quick look around at our surroundings. Once I confirm we are alone, I lean close while tugging down his face mask. His lips are warm against mine as I press a brief kiss to them. When I pull back, he licks his lips as if savoring my taste. Then, his lips curl into a slight grin before tugging his mask back in place. I suppress an almost overwhelming urge to take things further.

My expression must say as much because Ravok almost sounds pained when he says, "Come, Leelee. Let's go enjoy some human ‘love' food."

We get out of the car, and I lock it, dropping the keys in my pockets. Then I reach towards him tentatively, taking his larger hand in mine. He flexes his fingers around mine, an odd form of unspoken comfort. Despite our stark differences, there is an ease to us, as if our souls are familiar strangers, colliding across the universe on a bizarre journey of discovery.

We walk towards the festival, keeping to the edges of the crowd. As we approach the tents, strings of lights illuminate the gloom. The noises of revelry mix with the aromas of popcorn, sugary sweets, and briny seafood wafting through the air. I would think it would be an unappetizing mixture, but everything smells delicious. My stomach growls in anticipation. Laughter and happy screams ripple around us as children dart playfully between the stalls in frantic excitement. Looking over at Ravok, I grin broadly.

"You're going to love this, Ravok. I promise you." My voice is filled with an impish glee. I find myself thriving in his wonder and his fascination with every new experience.

As we weave along the edges of the crowd, occasionally, someone bumps into us. At first, it fills me with worry, but soon I start to relax. Not a single person has even given Ravok a sideways glance. I would think his height alone would make him stand out, but now that I'm paying attention, I notice that quite a few men are even taller than Ravok are milling about. They grow them big in Lublin Harbor.

I glance at Ravok, his towering form standing next to me, and give him a happy grin. It's a massive relief how no one, not a single soul, gives him more than cursory attention.

I turn away, surveying the rows of tents up ahead. Fairy lights are strung between the tents, casting an otherworldly glow on the milling crowd. The delicious aroma of cooking food is intoxicating, drifting and twisting, leading us toward it.

"Oh, look!" I exclaim. "They have lobster rolls. That is a classic dish from this region of the country. Lobster is a hard-shelled crustacean that we boil and, in this recipe, make into a sandwich."

Ravok nods. "I am happy to follow your lead."

Spotting a darker area shaded by a large tree not too far from the food tent, I nudge Ravok toward it. "Wait for me there. I'm going to grab us some food. I really think you'll love the lobster roll," I assure him, my excitement at sharing this with him lighting up my heart. His nod is hesitant but trusting, his eyes scanning our surroundings with cautious interest.

Taking a deep breath, I head towards the hustle and bustle of the tent. I nod in greeting at the waiter from the bakery who served me on my first day in town.

"Dobry, here's your order." The man dips his head at me before ambling over to grab his food.

The comforting smell of cooking mixed with the salty sea air acts as a balm, soothing the last of my tense nerves. Festive tunes fill the air, the melodies tugging at my heartstrings.

The line for food is not too long, but I take it as an opportunity to gaze towards Ravok. He has taken refuge under the shade of an old elm. I look him over critically and decide that he seems entirely human from here. An oversized, buff human, but a human, nonetheless. He doesn't seem out of place, lounging against the trunk of a tree. I feel, more than see his gaze – a warmth spreads through me at his regard.

Finally, I reach the front of the line. I order a lobster roll, and as an afterthought, add an order of fries and a glass of ice-cold lemonade.

The tent works on my order while I grab a stack of napkins. Then, with full hands, I head back toward Ravok. I can barely contain my grin in anticipation. Under the canopy of the ancient tree, the laughter and chatter seem muted and fade into the background as my focus sharpens on the man waiting for me. There is an old cut-off tree stump whose surface is flat and perfect for an improvised table.

"Here, try the lobster roll first," I suggest, handing him the paper tray holding the sandwich.

Ravok gives the lobster piled into the buttered roll an intrigued look. I watch as he lowers his mask and gingerly lifts it to his mouth.

I have no idea why I'm a little nervous. I guess I just really want to suggest something he will enjoy. I take a quick gulp of the lemonade, my anticipation causing my heart to perform an odd little tango. I hold my breath as I watch him finally take the first bite.

A low hum of appreciation escapes from Ravok's lips. "You like it?" I ask, unable to contain my excitement. He nods once before taking an even larger bite. It is all the answer I need.

It tickles a laugh from me, the sound bubbling up and escaping in the form of a giggle. I blink up at the alien before me, who is holding out the lobster roll to me.

"Here, Leelee," he purrs, that familiar gravelly richness in his voice making my heart flutter. I take a cautious bite. His face shines with satisfaction as I chew slowly, savoring the food. The lobster is perfectly cooked – nice and tender. There is nothing worse than overcooked, rubbery lobster. Ravok holds out the rest of the roll for me once I finish chewing, but I laugh, shaking my head. "No, you finish it," I insist.

He responds with a victorious grin before devouring the roll in two enormous bites that make me hide a grin behind a napkin as I pretend to wipe my mouth.

I indulge in a french fry, savoring the crispy saltiness that bursts in my mouth, while Ravok wipes his mouth and hands with a napkin. His gaze locks onto my mouth as I lick the salt crystals from my fingers.

I grab a fry from the paper-lined cup and hold out one for him.

"This, Ravok," I begin, rallying up my best professor-like tone, "is what we earthlings call a french fry. It's made from a potato which is a root-like tuber that grows underground. We take it and deep-fry it to perfection. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside. I love them, so I hope you'll like them too. I like to dip mine in ketchup, which I have here," I point to the little paper cup filled almost to the brim with ketchup.

My breath catches in my throat when Ravok leans down and takes the fry from my fingers with his mouth. I make an embarrassing little ‘huhgnn' noise when his lips brush gently against my fingertips just before he straightens up.

As he chews, Ravok gets a comically serious look on his face, like he's mentally preparing an analysis and report.

"I like it," Ravok announces once he swallows his bite.

"Try one with ketchup," I suggest. "Oh! And try the lemonade. It's a drink made from a tart citrus fruit. It's sweetened with sugar until it is very sweet and very tart."

Ravok follows my example and dips a fry into the ketchup, then follows it with a large gulp of lemonade. His lips pucker, and I can see his jaw muscles flex at the tartness of the drink, but then he gives me a grin. "Delightful," is all he says.

After that, I lose my mind a little. I'm like a kid in a candy store, I want to get one of everything. We try coconut shrimp, crab cakes, a little cup of clam chowder, beer-battered fish, ice cream, and funnel cake. Ravok likes it all.

On my last trip to the tents, I promise to get a selection of ‘love' foods from the contest table. I'm so full that I feel like I'm about to burst the seams on my jeans, but I love sharing this with Ravok. He's so open to trying anything new.

I return with a tray of offerings – chocolate-covered strawberries, a flute of champagne, a little heart-shaped raspberry cheesecake, a fig stuffed with blue cheese, a tiny piece of bacon-wrapped filet mignon, and a couple of raw oysters.

The tray is so overloaded and heavy that Ravok helps me set it on the tree stump.

He looks over all the items on the tray. "These are ‘love' foods for humans?"

"Um, well. According to some people. I'm not so sure. Just to warn you, I'm not sure you'll like everything here," I say, thinking specifically of the fig, champagne, and oysters – none of which I find personally appealing.

"All human food I have had so far is delicious. My people's food is paltry in comparison. Humans seemed to have perfected the art of cooking."

It's a warm evening with the lulling hum of conversations and the soft glow of the fairy lights in the distance. It feels like a fairy tale romance, and I can't stop smiling. This is the best date I've been on in ages.

"Okay, I know you're gonna love this," I state, cutting off a bit of the juicy steak. The aroma of seared meat and herbs fills my nose as I offer it to Ravok. "I've always really liked it when people wrap the steak in bacon."

Just as I suspected he would, Ravok really likes the steak. The taste pulls a moan out of him that sends a heated blush creeping up to my ears. My gaze is irresistibly drawn to his lips throughout his feast.

Next, I hold out the plastic champagne flute for Ravok to take, I add a quick, "By the way, it's alcohol." Ravok casts a slight glance at me but nods his head in understanding. I had wondered if his people partook of alcohol since the Cryzorians seem like an austere and puritanical people.

Ravok ventures a small sip. After a moment, he declares, "I like the bubbles, but the lemonade is better." A laugh springs forth from my chest; we definitely agree on that.

The next course involves a slice of decadent cheesecake. With his first bite, Ravok's eyes light up making me grin from ear to ear.

Then comes the item I'm most concerned about – a raw oyster. Ravok picks up the halved shell, tilting his head to study its slimy occupant before glancing at me, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Here," I say, demonstrating the process. "You just tip it back and eat the oyster whole. It's considered a delicacy and an aphrodisiac. Just to warn you, they are an acquired taste. I don't like them, so I wouldn't be surprised if you don't like them either." With butterflies fluttering in my stomach, I wait for his reaction.

I find myself holding my breath as I watch Ravok pick up the half-shell, hold it above his open mouth, and tip it back. The moment the oyster slides into his mouth, an unmistakable look of revulsion and horror crosses his handsome, alien face. His brows knit together, and he jerks, looking almost panicked for a fleeting moment.

He begins to chew with the look of a man facing his doom.

I thrust a napkin into his hand. "Ravok, it's okay. If you don't like it, spit it out. I promise I won't be offended." I can't help the unsettled laughter that bubbles out from my chest. I tried to warn him.

Ravok shakes his head in stubborn defiance. He clenches his jaw, before continuing to gamely chew. After a minute, he finally swallows hard.

He clears his throat, wiping his mouth with the napkin with finality. He states, with palpable grit, "I am a Cryzorian Outrider; a tiny slimy mollusk will not defeat me."

A burst of laughter gusts out of me at his stoic declaration. I laugh till tears well up in my eyes. As I look at Ravok, he sucks up the last gulp of the lemonade, his face looking as if he's discovered water in an arid desert.

Realization pierces me like a shooting star.

I am completely, hopelessly in love with Ravok.

My heart races, and my cheeks flush as I stare at him helplessly.

Oh no. What am I gonna do now? Of all the dumb things to do, I fell in love with an alien who is leaving soon.

One thing I am sure of is that I can't tell him how I feel. How unfair would that be to him, to announce my love, knowing full well that nothing can come of it? It's not like we can have a long-distance relationship. And I worry that if I say anything, I will prevent him from doing what he must. If Ravok stays on this planet, I'm certain it will only be a matter of time before he gets discovered.

I can't be selfish – I have to let him go.

I bite my lip and stare at the grass beneath my feet, blinking until the hot feeling in my eyes dissipates.

Once I get myself under control, I push down my feelings as he gulps down the last of the lemonade. I don't want to worry him.

"We have finally found human food that I do not like, Leelee," Ravok announces with a wide grin.

"I warned you."

Ravok chuckles at my admonishment but doesn't seem bothered by my teasing.

"Wait. You didn't like the oatmeal either," I remind him.

"Oatmeal?" At his confused look, I remind him that he gave me his portion the other morning.

"Oh, yes. It was fine. At least oatmeal is edible. But oysters… my people would use oysters in warrior training to test the fortitude of our soldiers, to see if they could withstand torture under the hands of our enemies."

I cackle at his over-the-top description. I love that I'm starting to see Ravok's humor emerge.

Thankfully, I saved the chocolate-covered strawberries for last.

"So, these are… what did you call them? Aphrodisiacs? They will make you open to my advances? Then I will need you to eat a few more," Ravok teases me, holding a strawberry by its stem for me to bite.

"I don't need a strawberry for that."

Ravok's eyes blaze so bright at my words that I can see them through his dark sunglasses.

"I believe I am finished eating. Perhaps… you'd like to return to the cabin now?" The look on Ravok's face says he's hungry, just not for food.

"Yeah," I reply, my voice sounding breathless and needy to my own ears. "We should get out of here."

Ravok helps me gather our trash and throw it out on the way back to the car.

As we head across the park towards where we left the car, I tuck myself under Ravok's arm, encircling his waist with my own. Under the soft glow of the moon and lampposts, I nestle as close as possible to Ravok. I inhale the night mingled with his scent. He smells like soap and a bit of salt – absolutely delicious.

I feel safe, strange, and wonderfully alive, all at once. A walk through a park has never felt this magical. I spot my car sitting alone in front of Harbor Home Tools when a man passes in front of us. Something about the man puts me on high alert before I even quite realize what I'm seeing. He is clad in a powder-blue polo shirt and jeans. He sorta looks like a young dad but there is something off. For some reason, he seems out of place.

He walks with a measured stride along the sidewalk, not talking to anyone and at a pace that says he has somewhere to be. It's his demeanor that's raising alarm bells in my head. He gives off the sensation of a man on a mission, walking ramrod straight in a measured stride, rather than someone enjoying the festivities. He sticks out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of laughter, brightly colored banners, and the townsfolk dressed in cheerful outfits.

"Ravok, wait," I urgently whisper, nudging my towering alien. He complies immediately and we duck out of sight behind a thick tree.

As I watch him from our hidden spot, I notice that he seems to be scanning the area, his head on a swivel. He almost seems to be scanning the crowd. A chilling sensation washes over me. I am probably overreacting, but I'd rather be wrong and overly cautious than risk Ravok.

"He's… uh… I don't know, something's off," I murmur to Ravok. "His demeanor doesn't match his clothes." I know that sounds ridiculous, but my gut is screaming at me. I dart my gaze at Ravok briefly before returning my anxious attention to the black-haired man now melting into the festival crowd. Ravok has pulled down his sunglasses to give the man an assessing look.

Ravok's luminous eyes are filled with questions as he turns back to me, his gaze intense but understanding. "No, you're right, Leelee. Something about his bearing reminds me of some of your military people I have encountered."

Relief flows out of me in a shaky sigh. I'm pleased that he trusts my judgment without question. We remain hunkered down in our hiding place, watching for several long minutes before quickly making our way to the car and back to the cabin.

I spend the whole drive back to the cabin with one eye on the road behind us, but we are the only car on the road at this time of night.