Space Man

What To Do

Keralis's POV

I was lost in thought, scrolling through all of my blueprints and plans for upcoming builds, trying to figure out how to make everything work. The quiet of the room gave me time to focus, but suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. Before I could even turn around, a pair of green-armored arms wrapped around my waist, and a helmeted head rested against my shoulder.

"Shishwam? Are you okay, my love?" I asked playfully, not quite expecting the response I got. Instead of the usual teasing or lighthearted banter, all he did was shake his head slowly, a gesture that immediately shifted my mood. It made me a bit worried, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of his silence.

I gently patted his arm, trying to reassure him, but he didn’t release his hold. My worry grew, so I leaned into him slightly, feeling his tense body beneath the armor. "Hey... talk to me. What's going on?"

After a moment of hesitation, he finally let go, stepping back slightly. I turned around immediately, reaching for his helmet, gently pulling it off in one smooth motion. Normally, this would be the moment I’d get to see his face, to look into his eyes, but instead, I was met with the familiar emptiness of his usual helmet, as we were still at my place. This wasn’t the usual spot where I could reassure myself with a smile or a comforting touch on his face.

My heart softened as I placed his helmet down carefully on the nearby table. I looked at him, hoping to read something in his body language. His posture was stiff, like he was holding himself together with sheer willpower, but his eyes... they seemed tired, distant, and I could see the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.

"Xisuma," I said softly, my voice gentler now, "you don’t have to hide behind the mask. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. You don’t have to carry it alone."

He didn’t respond immediately, and I stepped closer, my hand reaching out to rest lightly on his shoulder. The warmth of his presence, the heaviness of the armor, and the tension in the air made everything feel heavier than usual. I could tell he was conflicted, not wanting to talk about whatever was on his mind, but it was clear that something was eating at him.

He didn’t respond immediately, and I stepped closer, my hand reaching out to rest lightly on his shoulder. The warmth of his presence, the heaviness of the armor, and the tension in the air made everything feel heavier than usual. I could tell he was conflicted, not wanting to talk about whatever was on his mind, but it was clear that something was eating at him.

After a long moment of silence, he finally gave in and just hugged onto me. I could feel the weight of his armor press against my chest, but it didn’t matter. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him as he seemed to allow himself to lean into me for the first time in what felt like a long while.

Slowly, I worked to remove the top part of his helmet, careful not to disturb the breathing apparatus that he relied on. His antennae twitched slightly as they were freed from the confines of the helmet, and though he was still tense, I could see a slight shift in him as the weight of the moment seemed to settle.

I gently ran my fingers through his hair, the soft strands soothing to the touch. I could feel his body relaxing just a little under my hand, and as I combed through his hair, his shoulders seemed to loosen. It was a small gesture, but the effect was clear — the tension in his posture was beginning to ease, bit by bit.

He let out a quiet sigh, his head resting slightly against my shoulder as if he was gathering the strength to speak. His antennae flicked again, brushing against my arm in the process, but he didn’t seem to mind the physical contact. In fact, it seemed to comfort him.

I didn’t press him to speak. I just stayed there with him, offering the quiet support he needed, hoping that this moment of stillness would help him open up when he was ready. The silence between us felt natural now, less suffocating, and more like a quiet agreement — a mutual understanding that sometimes, words weren’t necessary. He didn’t need to explain everything right now. He just needed someone to be there, and I was more than willing to stay by his side for as long as it took.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, the quiet calm wrapping around us like a blanket, but eventually, he pulled away slightly. I could feel his hesitation, his uncertainty, as he slowly reached for his breathing apparatus. In a moment of confusion or perhaps a rush of emotion, he removed it and, without warning, kissed me on the lips.

The softness of the kiss caught me by surprise, a fleeting but intense moment that left my heart racing. His lips against mine were gentle, almost like he was unsure whether it was the right thing to do, but there was no mistaking the sincerity in it. As quickly as it happened, he pulled away, his eyes wide with a mix of panic and regret.

He made a move as if to run, but before he could take another step, I reached out, grabbing his arm gently but firmly. My grip was enough to stop him, and he froze, looking at me, his breath quick, almost like he was waiting for me to say something—anything. But I didn’t speak right away. I just held onto his arm, giving him the space to breathe, to process.

His antennae twitched nervously, and I could tell he was conflicted, unsure of what to do next. I wanted to reassure him, to let him know that it was okay, that I didn’t want him to run away. But I wasn’t sure how to say that yet, or if he even needed to hear it out loud.

So, I just held his gaze, my hand still resting lightly on his arm, waiting for him to take the next step. Whatever it was, I knew I’d be there with him. I always would be.

I couldn’t help myself. The moment stretched on, the tension between us palpable, and I knew then that I couldn’t let him slip away without saying everything my heart had been screaming. I gently cupped his cheeks, drawing him closer to me. This time, I kissed him, and it was different—deeper, more passionate. It wasn’t just a fleeting touch but something that carried all the unspoken feelings we’d both been holding onto. His lips responded against mine, and I felt a surge of warmth flood through me, a sense of rightness, even if we were both still navigating the unknown.

When we finally pulled apart, neither of us said anything. The silence between us was heavy, but it didn’t feel awkward—just intimate, like we didn’t need words to understand each other. His breath was shallow, and I could see his antennae twitching slightly, as if he was processing everything all at once.

He rested his forehead gently against mine, his hand finding its place on my shoulder, grounding us both in that quiet moment. The weight of everything seemed to settle, and I could feel his heartbeat steadying against mine. We didn’t need to rush. We were just there, together, in that shared space.

I slowly reached for his breathing apparatus, handing it back to him with a soft smile. His eyes met mine, gratitude and something deeper flickering in them. As I helped him adjust it back in place, the reality of the moment didn’t feel rushed, and for the first time in a while, everything felt... right.

We didn’t speak again for a long while, but in that silence, there was understanding. We were both scared, unsure, but we were willing to face whatever came next together.