Unlikely Love

19

As I leaned my head against the cold glass pane, the chill seeped into my skin, grounding me in the silence that surrounded me. The world outside felt distant, almost detached, blurred by the rain that began to fall in soft, delicate droplets. I wasn’t sure how to feel—neither happy nor sad—just caught somewhere in between, lost in the gray. The soft pitter-patter of rain on the window grew stronger, each drop hitting with more force until the sky opened up in a torrential downpour. Sheets of water cascaded down the glass, distorting the world beyond into a swirling mess of light and shadow.

My glowing red wings hung limply beside me, casting a faint, eerie glow in the dim light of the room. They flickered with energy, yet they felt heavy, weighed down by some unseen burden. My antennae twitched absently, catching the vibrations in the air, but even they felt sluggish, responding only to the soft hum of the storm outside.

I don’t know how long I sat there, my eyes following the raindrops as they raced each other down the glass, merging and splitting apart in a never-ending dance. The minutes bled into hours, or maybe it was only seconds. Time felt strange, as though it was slipping through my fingers without me noticing. My breath fogged up the glass, a small, temporary mark in the vast expanse of water and sky.

The silence inside the room was broken only by the steady rhythm of the rain—until I heard it. Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. The kind of footsteps that weren’t meant to sneak up on you but made sure you knew someone was coming. The sound echoed down the hallway, growing closer with each thud, like the slow, methodical ticking of a clock.

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The weight of the steps, the slight clank of metal, the faint hiss of machinery—it had to be Xisuma in his space suit. The familiarity of it was both comforting and unsettling, pulling me out of my thoughts but not quite out of the haze that had settled over me.

I pulled my wings tight against my back, their soft glow dimming as I tucked them away, careful not to flood the room with the harsh red light they emitted. It was a reflex, really—something I did without thinking, just to make sure I didn’t overwhelm him the moment he stepped in. But aside from that, I didn’t move. My body stayed frozen, still slumped against the window as the rain continued its endless drumming.

A soft knock broke the quiet, followed by the slow creak of the door easing open.

“Xavier?” Xisuma’s voice filtered into the room, cautious, as if he wasn’t sure whether I’d hear him. There was a pause. He must not have seen me, still sitting by the window instead of on the bed where he likely expected me to be.

The door opened a little wider, and I could feel him scanning the room, searching.

“Xavier?” he asked again, this time more certain, his voice carrying a tinge of concern.

But I didn’t move, didn’t even glance his way. The rain outside still held my gaze, the storm swirling beyond the glass more familiar than the room around me. I wasn’t avoiding him, not really. I just didn’t have the energy to respond.

I heard the door click softly shut, and his footsteps followed—slow and steady. My antennae twitched, subtly attuned to his movements even though I kept my eyes on the rain. The faint thud of his boots against the floor drew closer, then stopped just beside me.

“Wow, it’s really coming down out there, huh?” Xisuma’s voice broke the silence again, this time with a hint of small talk, trying to fill the emptiness.

He lowered himself onto the seat next to me, and I heard the soft clinking of silverware as he set down a tray. It was likely food—something warm, probably, given the dull scent that carried through the air. But I still didn’t move, didn’t say anything, didn’t even spare him a glance. The rain was still more important somehow, more captivating. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his presence; I just couldn’t bring myself to focus on him, to acknowledge the effort he’d put into coming here.