Space Man

Armor

After he finished eating, I gently took the empty bowl from him, offering a small smile. “Stay here and rest,” I said, starting to head toward the small kitchen tucked away in the corner of the medical facility. "I’ll just wash this real quick."

But as I turned to glance back, I froze. He had gotten up, the blanket still draped loosely around his shoulders, and was slowly following me. My heart skipped a beat. "Hey, you should sit down—you just got up," I said, a hint of worry creeping into my voice. "What if you tip over or something?"

He gave me a small, reassuring smile, his movements deliberate but steady. “I’m fine,” he murmured, his voice still soft but more certain than before. Then, to my utter surprise, he began to remove the rest of his armor, piece by piece. The clang of each section hitting the counter was strangely loud in the quiet room.

I paused, the bowl still in my hands, watching him. “You… you’re really taking it all off?” I asked, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “It’s heavy,” he said simply, as though that explained everything. “I’m tired of wearing it.”

It was the first time I’d seen him without his full suit, and it struck me just how human he looked. Vulnerable, even. Without the armor, he seemed… lighter, not just physically but emotionally, as if he was shedding more than just metal.

I quickly turned back to the sink, letting the water run as I washed the bowl, my mind racing. While rinsing, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Xavier:

He’s awake. He ate without much fuss, which was… surprising. Should I be worried? Also, he’s taking off the rest of his armor.

I hit send, glancing back at Xisuma, who was now carefully folding the pieces of his suit and stacking them neatly on the counter. His movements were slow but deliberate, and the sight of him standing there—vulnerable but composed—was both reassuring and unsettling.

The response from Xavier came almost immediately:

That’s... unexpected. Keep an eye on him. If he’s not panicking, maybe he’s just trying to feel normal again. Let me know if anything changes.

I tucked my phone away, drying the bowl and setting it aside, before turning back to Xisuma—only to have my breath catch in my throat. The bowl, still slightly damp and dripping, slipped slightly in my grip as I froze, staring.

He was in the process of removing his chest plate, lifting it over his head with slow, deliberate movements. The action caused his muscles to flex in ways I hadn’t anticipated, and I suddenly realized how defined he was. His lean frame didn’t scream strength in his armor, but now, seeing him like this—scarred, yes, but undeniably strong—I found myself momentarily speechless.

My God, this man was beautiful. And he chose to hide this? I couldn’t for the life of me understand why.

“Full of surprises today, aren’t we?” I asked, doing my best to keep my voice steady. I wasn’t sure I succeeded because the corner of his mouth twitched into a knowing smirk.

He chuckled softly as he finished shucking off the chest plate, setting it carefully on top of the other pieces. “It got way too hot,” he replied simply, as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

I blinked, trying to focus on his words instead of… everything else. “Hot?” I echoed, buying time to reel in my spiraling thoughts. “I thought that suit was temperature-controlled?”

“It is,” he said, rolling his shoulders as though testing his newfound freedom. “But it’s not perfect. And after everything, it just felt… suffocating.”