My Angel of the Dawn (WomanxBoy, ManxBoy, Sci-Fi + Romance)

***23***

By every indication today was the day for which Nergan saved up his declaration of love. Long ago Nelsa was an expert at this game — reading emotions, intentions, thoughts in the tone of voice, or the changing of facial expression, tiny gestures, slight shifting of eyes. She played it for a living, every day, and now she almost forgot how to do it. A good thing, probably. And now she watched another player without being one herself. The question remained — was Nergan a hunter or a prey after all?

Ariel never noticed how he was tying Nergan more and more strongly to him with every look of his beautiful blue eyes, every move of his lithe young body. Any coquette would have gladly given up all her jewelry just for the skill to laugh so openly, sincerely, throwing back her hair, as Ariel did with Nergan.

It was the first time Nelsa saw her serious, tense second pilot laugh. Nergan, that cheerful lewd clown, could make anybody laugh. Ariel was able to relax completely in his company. The captain of Hyppolita was a pro at making friends, Nelsa knew it firsthand. But it was so not a friendship he was thinking about at the moment. Nelsa caught the look he gave the laughing Ariel and had to suppress a smile. Nergan was dying to toss Ariel over his shoulder and carry him into the bedroom. Only his iron will prevented him. Nelsa hoped his self-control wouldn't fail him. But he was just a man, and she felt the need to watch Ariel's back. So when all the guests left for the night, leaving Nergan alone with Ariel, she lingered outside, in a niche behind the half-closed door of the terrace. The boy was pretty drunk, and she knew Nergan to be quite pushy (although never less than a gentleman).

She could imagine everything what was happening behind the door as clearly as if she'd seen it with her own eyes. The terrace was almost dark, lit with only a pair of lanterns. Gentle breeze was stirring the curtains, the sea whispered beneath. Now Nergan must have moved closer to Ariel, lay his hand on the boy's shoulder, drew him to himself. Then he bowed his head slowly, letting the boy feel his hot breath, smell his aftershave, look into his eyes alit with desire. The boy probably froze, overcome with fear, excitement and shyness, all three at once. Nergan would kiss him now, that very moment. He would know how to kiss properly. He must be insanely good in bed too, Nelsa knew all too well his stamina, his wild energy from their sparring at the gym. Women had always been crazy about Nergan. Twice Nelsa had been confronted by his lady friends of the moment, who had misinterpreted their relationship and went into a fit of jealous rage. She'd dissuaded them quite gently, without breaking any bones.

She though that Nergan might be just the right person to make Ariel happy. She trusted the lucky bastard. He had never hurt his lovers, even healed their old wounds sometimes. After all, the boy's broken heart hadn't been drawn to anyone like this before.

Come on, pal, kiss him gently, caress him, offer him your love and protection. God knows he needs it! And by Heaven, be patient and sweet!

Maybe something would come out of it. Something more serious than a short holiday fling. The miracle of true love had always touched her deeply. There was a time when she envied those who could afford falling in love without thinking, without careful planning, skillfully laid traps, only because their hearts were drawn to each other. Then that part of her which could feel envy died, as if amputated and thrown away at the hospital while they were putting together her mutilated body.

Sometimes she felt something like post-amputation pains. That cut-out part of her soul still hurt a little when she looked at people displaying affection to one another.

Love was a luxury you could have never afforded. Never ever in your damn life.