Setting Fire to the Stars (a MM Sci-Fi Romance)

Chapter 16: Abduction

(Slight trigger warning)

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Lauren
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When I was a boy, I thought I knew what I wanted for my life. My plan was simple; graduate from a good college, meet the guy of my dreams, and kiss my small town goodbye. What I hadn't counted on was the planet being invaded or falling—sorry, re-falling—for the very bully I had been trying to get away from. Whatever I imagined for my future, this had not been it.

That thought spun through my mind as I awoke in darkness. At first, all I could see were several blurry dots of light dangling above my head like little fireflies. Releasing a groan, I scrubbed my hands down my face, my whole body feeling sluggish as my head throbbed painfully. I blinked away the remnants of my drug-induced coma, mind hazy as if I was waking after downing a bottle of cheap wine.

My fingers flexed atop a plush surface. Carefully, i raised my pounding head to see that I was lying upon a soft mass of stark white furs draped over a large mattress. Forcing myself to sit up onto my elbows, a jolt of agony sprang in my abdomen, tearing my eyes downward.

"Fucking fuck," I groaned,

Grazing the skin around my sides, it was nearly impossible to see clearly in this dimly lit room. Intuition told me that my ribs were worse off than they were before. The hunters obviously didn't know the meaning of the word 'gentle'.

Creepy psycho assassin aliens: Zero out of five stars on Yelp.

Tolting my head upwards, I promptly lost my breath. I watched as groups of spiraling lights danced overhead, moving in a synchronized symphony of floating stars in possibly the most amazing and ethereal display I'd ever seen. What I thought were fireflies were actually multicolored orbs of light, suspended in the air like celestial will-o-wisps. The spheres each roughly about the size of my palm, but it was hard to tell from where I sat. I couldn't make out if the wisps were somehow alive or some kind alien flying technology. Whatever they were, the view they created was absolutely breathtaking.

Yet in the face of all this beauty, I had never been more alone in my entire life.

My legs shifted beneath unfamiliar fabric and I frowned as my attention turned towards my appearance. My hair hung across
My forehead, slightly damp, with the cloying fragrance of roses clinging to my skin. To my utter horror, someone had taken the liberty, not to mention the fucking audacity, to bathe me and change my clothes. A pearl-white silky shirt with billowing sleeves adorned my chest, cinching at my wrists. High-waisted silk pants donned my legs, completing the matching set. My feet were left bare, my beat-up sneakers nowhere in sight.

Plucking at the material, I marveled at the texture. Breathable and smooth, these clothes might have been the nicest I'd ever worn, though my skin crawled at the thought of someone touching me, bathing me, while I was unconsious. Whoever had committed the act had seen everything, even the white marks marring my upper thighs. Chills raised the hairs along my nape, my fingers ghosting over the raised pale lines, instinctively covering the evidence of my self-destructive tendencies. Breathing became difficult at the thought of someone seeing the scars of I had tried so hard to hide.

Calm down. You're okay, Lauren, you're fine. Fine.
Fine.
I was fine.

After several minutes of repeating the mantra and carefully reconstructing my inner peace, I rose to observe the heavily furnished bedroom. The room was a dusty pink color, accentuated by the decadent pastels of the lush blankets and fluffy pillows. Enormous sheer curtains cascaded down from the starry ceiling like geysers of silk, ranging from shades of magenta and light mauve to dark pomegranate red. The tapestry shimmered as though embroidered using millions of tiny diamonds. It was undeniably beautiful.