And to me.
19
Naomi
It’s Danek’s first day of work, and even with the floofs running around the place, I feel his absence keenly. Everything is too quiet. The house feels empty.
Naomi, you are being ridiculous.
Danek and I went exploring yesterday. Most of the dome is residential, but there is one street with a couple of retail stores. There’s one self-serve restaurant, in case we get tired of eating at home, and a small grocery store, for when we get tired of syn-made food.
I’d dragged Danek inside the grocery store, I’d made him explain what everything was, and I’d ended up buying a crapload of alien food.
The vegetables are new to me, strange in appearance, taste, and texture. For most of the morning, I fiddle around in the kitchen, crafting the raw and frozen ingredients into a stir-fry, which I eat with great enjoyment. Pumpkin, Plague, and Pestilence ignore me during the cooking, but show up when I sit down with the food, demanding their share. Adorable little floofs.
I’ve spent many days in my apartment in Bestea with nothing to do. This feels different somehow. I feel more optimistic. More alive. I think it’s because I know I won’t be alone. Danek will be back in the evening.
Will you stop that, Naomi?
I read for a couple of hours after lunch, and then, feeling the need for some physical exertion, I head outside for a run, and jog around the park twice. I’m ready to go back home—I have fantasies of cooking dinner before Danek returns—when I’m intercepted by a Zorahn woman with spiky purple hair. “You must be Naomi Knoll,” she says, her voice high and cheerful. “I’m Praki.”
How does she know who I am? “Umm, hi.”
“I’m the social coordinator in charge of this dome,” she continues with a bright smile. “I sent a message to your comm, but since I didn’t hear back from you, I thought I’d follow up. We’re having a party tonight in the park. Dremonae, cold beer, and, once we switch to night mode, we’ll be screening a new vid from the Homeworld. Everyone will be there. You should come.”
I haven’t bothered to check my comm since I got here—who’s going to call me?—which explains why I missed her message. “That sounds fun.”
“Great.” She beams in satisfaction, her attention already on her next target. “I’ll see you this evening.”
Danek walks through the door just when I’m putting the finishing touches on dinner. The floofs run to the front to investigate. They jump into his arms, run up his shoulder, and sniff his feet, nearly tripping him in the process. I do my best to stifle my giggles, and then, taking pity on him, I distract the little horrors by throwing some treats on the ground.
He grins at me, and my stomach does a little flip. “Hey,” I murmur, trying to recover from the impact of that smile. “How was your day?”
“Frustrating. How was yours?” He sniffs the air. “You cooked?”
“Yeah, are you hungry? I made chili. Well, it’s chili-adjacent.” I clear my throat, feeling a little foolish. “I don’t know if you like spicy food, or if this will taste strange to you, but—”
“I’d love to try some,” he interrupts. “Thank you for cooking.” He bends his head and kisses me, and a shiver runs through my body. “I’ve spent all day in a spacesuit. I’m hot and sweaty. Give me five minutes to shower?”
Want me to wash your back? The words die on my tongue. Me cooking for him, him showering before sitting down to eat—this is all too domestic. It feels like we’re a real couple.
“Sure,” I tell him, my smile fading. It’s a fantasy. It’s not real. We’re playing house on Noturn, but when we get back to the Rebellion’s headquarters, things will go back to normal. I have to remember that.
True to his word, Danek is out of the shower in five minutes. We fill our bowls with food and move to the couch. “What did you do with your day?” he asks. He tastes the chili, and a surprised look fills his face. “This is delicious.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am, a little,” he admits sheepishly. “I guess I assumed all human food would be weird.”
I chuckle. “That’s okay; I’ve been making the same assumptions about Zorahn food. Everything looks so different from what I’m used to.”
He eats a bowl of chili and goes back for more. By the time he gets back to the couch, Pumpkin has staked his claim to the space. Rolling his eyes, Danek pushes him out of the way. The floof promptly takes offense, stalking off with his three orange tails held high in the air.
My lips twitch. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back. Why was your day frustrating? No sign of the prison?”
“Trust me, I wasn't worried,” he replies dryly. He leans back on the couch, stretching his legs out. “Yeah. I don’t know what I thought I’d find, but I hoped there would be something. Some sign of dome construction, some debris, something.” He shrugs philosophically. “Still, there’s time.”
Not that much time. Just twelve more days.
When we’re done, Danek cleans up, refusing my offer of help. “Do you want a drink?” he asks. “Beer, Vabrian, something else?”
“Blood of my enemies?” I quip, remembering our exchange back at the Rebellion. “Yeah, I’ll take a beer, please.”
He fiddles with the syn and produces two cold glasses of beer, one for him and one for me. I’m almost done
