Alien [Louis]

08 | J a s o n

I AWOKE BEFORE THE ALIEN did, and he was thankfully still where I'd left him the night before; curled up on the couch under his blanket. His feet were sticking out over the edge of the sofa, soft snores falling from his parted lips. It looked as if he were at peace, and for a moment I wondered if aliens could dream like we could. Perhaps he was dreaming of home? 

I moved carefully into the kitchen, determined not to waken him so early. It was only eight in the morning, after all. Deciding that he was probably going to be hungry when he stirred, I prepared us some breakfast which consisted of toast for myself and pancakes topped with strawberries for him.

I shot him another glance while I poured myself some coffee.  I knew he had to eat more than pancakes and strawberries but what else would he like? I'd tried nearly everything there was in my fridge and cupboards yet there had been nothing of interest. 

Perhaps Jason would know? Not that I'd ever tell him I was housing an alien, but I would subtly ask him somehow. There were times where I was excellent at making up excuses.

"Flora?" grumbled a voice from the living room. I peeked round the door to find Loudrix - Louis, I mentally corrected - sitting with his head just visible over the back of the couch, his tousled brown hair messier than usual. 

"Morning," I said. "How are you feeling today?"

"Sore," he admitted. "I am rather sore for some reason. My head aches and the pain won't diminish. It started to occur last night before I fell unconscious."

I looked at him blankly. "Louis?" 

He seemed confused at first with the new name but he soon understood and nodded n acknowledgement.

"What did we talk about yesterday? You know - about you fitting in on Earth?"

He thought, his brow furrowing in concentration. His face lit up when he remembered. "I would require a new name, to speak normally and also to not talk of my home too much in case an Earthling hears and discovers where I originate."

I nodded. "Repeat the second one to me."

"Uh ... speak normally?" he asked, seeming confused.

I just nodded and said, "Now tell me - normally - what is wrong with you this morning."

"Oh..." he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "My head requires some kind of healing aid."

I shook my head. "Try again."

He narrowed his eyes. Speaking through his teeth, he said, "My head is sore. Do you have anything to help?"

"Yay!" I falsely cheered, throwing my hands up in the air before beckoning him into the kitchen. I scratched around in the drawers until I found a box of ibuprofen. I popped two pills and turned to face the curious extra-terrestrial. "You swallow these whole with a glass of water and in due course they'll help with your sore head."