The Stars in Your Skin

CHAPTER 33

Neteyam plods towards home, greeting all he crosses paths with. Lo'ak prattles next to him about an aerial maneuver he'd finally mastered on his ikran. Neteyam does his best to give him his full attention but Eywa he is exhausted. His day had started earlier than usual with morning patrol, then a grueling hunt in the wetlands, spent his early afternoon gathering medicinal materials along with Kiri for his grandmother, and his late afternoon patrolling with his parents. He could hardly wait to arrive home and wrap his arms around his mate.

His heart lifts as soon as home is in sight. He praises his brother, ruffling his hair before saying farewell, and walks the brief distance to their home. He pushes the flap aside and enters their soothingly lit home, finding his sweet mate crushing seeds for spices. The smile she gifts him is heartstoppingly brilliant.

“You're home.” She rises, placing her things aside, and walks to him.

“Hello my heart.” He embraces her, burying his nose in her soft neck, and drinks in her bewitching scent. Coming home to her was always the highlight of his day. He draws away reluctantly, pressing his forehead to hers.

He closes his eyes when she places a hand on his cheek. “I love you.” The words are nectar to his ears.

“I love you too, my syulang.”  Her smile sets sunshine through him. He releases her, venturing farther into their home.

“How was your day?” She returns to her task at the firepit. He says nothing, striding to the weapon rack on the far side of their home. “That good huh.” He sets each weapon in their designated spot. “How about a back rub when I finish?” She asks.

He pauses for a breath. Eywa his sore muscles clamor in agreement, but she's already busy. “You don't have to. I'm fine.” He says nothing more, hanging his trusty slingbag. He retrieves a drink of water from the large jug near the entrance, the coolness of it refreshing him. His mate says nothing, filling the silence with the grating of her grinding seeds.

He retrieves a wooden bowl and sits down next to her. He pours the inedible fruits into his bowl and starts deseeding them. A gentle pat to his knee is all she gives as a silent thank you. A small smile curls his lips.

They fall into an easy silence disturbed only by the sound of their work. He’s a third of the way through his bowl when she speaks: “Neteyam.”

The sound of his name on her lips warrants his full attention. He regards her. She's staring at him with a gentleness that strikes his core.

“I'm your mate and this,” she gestures between them, “is a safe space for you to voice what you need and want. Okay?” He ducks his head but nods. “And I don't have to give you a massage. I want to because you need it.” A playful grin quirks her full lips. “And it's an excuse for me to feel on your muscles,” she jokes.

He smiles then, “Ah. So you have secret motives,” he replies with mock offense.

She shrugs unrepentantly. “You shouldn't be so handsome.”

He only gives a shrug. “Blame my parents.”

“Blame? You mean thank.”

His cheeks heat up. Her resultant giggle though adorable is still embarrassing.

After they finish with the seeds he sits down on their sleeping mat on the far back of their home. He watches her rummage in one of their baskets until she holds a jar of oil up triumphantly. His eyes narrow a fraction at the oddly familiar jar. He lays on his belly, resting his head on their shared pillow. Heat runs up his spine when she straddles him. Then, she's rubbing the warm light musk-scented oil into his skin and Eywa he has to bite back a groan.