Starhold Vesta

Chapter 3.2

When I return to my cabin at the end of the day, I drop down on one of the chairs untucked from the small table and pull off my boots. I stretch, roll my neck, wind my shoulders, and lean back with my hands pressing my hips forward. I languish in the pop of vertebrae and shudder as I release an age of stress in each new pinch of muscle and bone.

I recline and face the window. An endless field of stars meets me. They don't change, and even if they did, there are too many to count. I recognize the big ones—the burning, red giants and flickering blue dwarfs, the nebulas, and the dying spirals, but nothing I would care to name. We'll be out of their view in a few short sleep cycles.

Nuna enters the cabin, drops her duffle bag by the bed, and takes the seat across from me. We stare into the stars together. At some point, she's taken my hand in hers. We sit quietly, enjoying each other's comfort.

"Maybe you should bring more things over," I suggest. The quavering in my voice belays my calm exterior. "So you don't have to keep refilling your duffle. There's plenty of room."

Her laugh is like raindrops on tin. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

Horrified, I pull my hand from hers. "It was just a suggestion. If it's too weird you don't have to. I was just—"

She shuts me up by reaching over, grabbing my shirt, and pulling me up over the table until we meet in the middle. "I have been slowly moving my things for a while. I'm glad you have finally thought it was a good enough idea to ask." She kisses me.

When I sit back, I scan the room. Her trinkets are on the left bedside table and shelf. Her basket of blankets is at the end of the bed. Her pillows propped against the headboard. Almost nothing in here is mine. I laugh. "I never realized I don't own much."

"All the salary you earn, you spend on Huxley. Have you seen his room lately?"

I shake my head. "Are you sure you're okay with this? We could come live in your quarters too. You're downsizing from First Mate. Mine and Hux's rooms could fit in the living room of your cabin."

"Maybe one day. Right now, all that space is too empty to enjoy. I find more happiness here than in any piece of luxury Teeno has sent to embellish that cold, lifeless hole."

"Tomorrow, Hux and I will move you here. For good."

"I will file the change and make it official."

"They're going to send your packages down here and everything?"

She slips from her chair and slides into mine, straddling me. "Everything."

I spread my fingers across the expanse of her ass and squeeze. "Maybe we should direct all mail to your old place. Fewer interruptions."

She pushes back against my grip and whispers in my ear. "You talk too much for someone so turned on." She reaches behind me to rub a finger down my back, dragging her nail across my semi-raised scales.

I give in and raise them, opening to all the sensations of her kiss—the textures and taste of her lips. The coolness of her neck and the slight rise of the goosebumps on her collarbones as I brush my knuckles across her neck to unbutton her shirt.

After we make love, we curl in together, face to face. When I would almost always pretend to sleep until I knew she was out and then would turn away, I keep my mind closed to anything that exists outside my quarters. For once, I close my eyes, and I fall asleep to the sound of Nuna's soft breathing.

We wake up late. Naked and stretched out, enjoying the cool, luxurious fabrics of what I discover have been Nuna's sheets that she brought with her from her cabin, I rise, leaning on my elbow, and stroke the white, silky fabric. "Sleeping with the boss has more perks than I imagined."

"Ah, you've finally noticed I replaced your shitty standard bedding with my own. They were a gift from Teeno after we discovered this was the only luxury we shared joy in. You're welcome."The watery fabric slides through my fingers. An unbidden image flashes in my mind's eye: my cot on Level 8. Low to the cold ground and so old, I could see that very ground through the thin fibers worn down in the middle. The feel of the scratchy, threadbare material topped by the brown blanket so stiff, it crunched loud enough to wake me if Simon or I shifted in the night.Simon.

I push my memories of him to the back of my mind along with the memory of our survival scenario.

"Where did you go?" Nuna places her hand on my bicep. "I lost you to your thoughts for a moment."

I sit up, push the offending bedding off, and slide to the ground to start dressing. "Just thinking about all the work I have to do today. I'm going to see you at the meeting later, right?"

"Don't do that," Nuna says. She follows me to the closet and holds my shoulders in place to face me. "Don't hide from me."

"I'm not hiding. I'm just getting ready."

"Janika—"

"It's fine," I shove my arms into a fresh shirt and begin on the buttons. "It was just the ghost of bad bedding past. I'm fine, honestly."

By the piercing gaze she's throwing at me, she doesn't buy it, but at least she drops the conversation. Before she has another opportunity to bring it up again, I stuff my feet into my boots and slap the door scanner separating my room from Hux's. Nuna holds my hand steady on the scanner so it doesn't open the door immediately.

"Listen to me," she says.

I meet her gaze.

"I see you trying to escape the worst parts of the life you led in the past. You do not have to hide them from me. Part of loving you is loving your demons. If I am not brave enough to face them, I am not fit to care for your heart."

My mouth moves, but I don't have words to respond. For some reason, this downward spiral of thoughts turns my bones to jelly. Nuna's hand slides over my shoulders in a gentle embrace. For some reason, supported by her strong hold, I am ready to exhale the sour images and the gut-punch worry I have been harboring for my father.

Hux's door slides open behind me.

A single arm reaches around my legs and a small head rests against my hip.

I don't exhale. I break.

My dad is gone, and I might not ever see him again.

A single tear becomes a cascade and by the time anyone moves, snot and tears have pooled on Nuna's now-wet shoulder. She wipes away whatever is left on my face.

I need to let him go. I need to let them all go.