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

***37***

There was a time when comforting a man had been easy for Nelsa. She would treat them as children: hugged them, whispered sweet nonsense into their ear — 'Everything will be all right, don't worry, I'll take care of you, I care for you'. It had been enough, she'd done it a lot. Damn, men sometimes came to her for exactly that — for the sympathy and support, not for sex. Or not only for sex.

And Nelsa had been able to assume any role they wanted her to: a caring mother, a trusted confidante, a confessor, a psychoanalyst, a friend. She would stroke them on the head, pat them on the shoulder, let them lay their heads on her lap and pour out their hearts to her, despite of who they were in real life. A rich banker whose marriage was falling apart because of his work. A police commissioner who was being forced into early retirement to avoid a corruption scandal. An aging movie star who was struggling with his drug addiction and losing. She would embrace them, comfort them without thinking twice. It was a reflex. A job. She didn't really care for them, she only pretended to.

Now it was Ariel sitting next to her. Her second pilot who'd risked his life for Nelsa, who'd saved her from a cruel vindictive bastard. Yet she couldn't even raise her hand to touch him, as if frozen solid. Inwardly she was in turmoil: boiling with anger, stricken with pain, guilt, pity for Ariel — all at once. Yet her throat felt incredibly tight, she couldn't utter a single word. She just looked at Ariel, at his profile framed with his disheveled blond hair. He had no time to tie them back in his usual ponytail.

The darkness and his loose hair hid all the damage. There was a scratch on his temple covered with liquid pseudo-skin, and a bruise on his jaw line. His scraped and bruised wrists, neatly bandaged. Burns on his side where a plasma charge had marred his fair skin. Only two centimeters to the left...

This time she did care. That made all the difference. It wasn't a skill learned and used to her own ends. Most things and people in the universe she didn't care for; not Ariel. But how was she supposed to tell him that? It would sound strained or stupid.

Good Heavens, she would have emptied her entire legal account for Holloran to never have touched the boy! What'd it cost Ariel to play his role? What did Holloran do to him before taking off his handcuffs? Pawed him, most likely. Maybe kissed a few times, like a hungry beast he was. He insufferably liked to talk, so he probably talked dirty, describing what he was about to do, how he would do it...

Something bothered her, some vague recollection. Like the buzz of a distant, barely audible alarm.

His scraped wrists.

Holloran never took his handcuffs off, only the leg restraints. The lad fought handcuffed. He had waited for a moment's distraction, brought his arms to the front over his legs and jumped the mercenary. Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad. That was what had happened to Holloran. He had relaxed, stopped seeing Ariel as a threat.

The distant alarm was still buzzing.

Holloran would have never done that. Do you really think he was just standing there waiting for the lad to start a fight? Waiting for him to go for his throat? How did the lad manage to get the upper hand? How, Nelsa? Think. How could he make a man lie in a blissful stupor, render him unable to notice anything, even the Angel of the Dawn, let alone a boy trying to slip his handcuffed hands over his legs? Which is easier, by the way, while lying down...

"Oh no," she whispered. "Tell me it wasn't... he didn't..." Her voice faltered.

Ariel turned his face away from her. Now even his profile wasn't visible. He was silent, and that silence told her more than any words could. Instantly a recollection flashed through her mind: a cabin, also dark, only with one lamp on, a boy's head clasped to her bosom, his incoherent voice, hot tears dropping on her arms.

Now he was silent, and that silence was dreadful, unbearable.

"Good Lord in Heavens... Ariel, I'm sorry... I didn't know. As God is my witness, I didn't know."

"You didn't know, did you? Did you take Holloran for an idiot? Did you think it's enough to make eyes at him, and he would melt? He hadn't gotten off me for a bloody hour, damn it!" Ariel hit the bed frame with his fist and covered his face with his palms again.

Nelsa shut her eyes for a moment, but then her eager imagination threw in some dirty pictures of how it could've gone down, and she clamped her hand over her mouth, sick. That's what Ariel meant saying he had never before pretended to like it. This time he had played his role well, showing the bastard paradise on earth before striking him down.