Stardust (Complete)

Space Slug

I was feeling kind of giddy and bubbly, more affectionate than ever before.  Kyra was being a dork, somehow figuring out that I was ticklish and had tortured me relentlessly until I'd begged him to stop.

Laying beside him, I traced my fingers over his collarbone, and down his chest to come to rest against his ribs.  He pulled me closer and I nuzzled into the side of his neck, breathing a contended sigh.  I always hated sharing beds, but this was nice, with him, our legs tangled together, staying warm in each other's arms.

Kyra was like that, just easy to talk to, easy to be around.  He changed my perspective, made me really evaluate what I thought I knew about myself.  I hated people touching me, yet, I was fine with him running his fingers through my hair.  I hated sharing beds, and here I was, with my head resting on his shoulder.

I had a hard time getting close to anyone, mainly because I sucked at conversations with new people, but, now, I was dying for a glimpse into his mind, asking him all sorts of questions about his life.

"What was the worst job you ever had?"  I wondered.

"Hm..." He thought for a second, smoothing my hair down my back.

"My worst job," he said slowly, thinking, "was probably when I was sixteen and got an apprenticeship as a chef."

"Is that how you learned to cook?" I wondered.

"Nah, my auntie taught me," he explained. "That's why I thought I'd like it, but it just took the fun away from it."

"I guess you need to have hobbies that don't revolve around work," I acknowledged, repeating the words my mother had always said for as long as I could remember.  "Not everything is about money."

"What was your worst one?"  He asked me.

"I hated being a waitress," I told him.  "I don't do well around people."

"Because you're shy?"

"Yeah."

"You shouldn't be," he told me, turning his head to carefully brush a kiss over my cheek.  "You're fucking awesome, Ash.  I wish you'd let the world see it."

I smiled, but didn't respond, just nestled into him a little more.

"I wouldn't have minded being a hair dresser," I admitted after a second, "but I'm just not outgoing enough.  I'd be so awkward.  I couldn't do what you do."

"No?"

"The way you just so easily talk to people, even ones you don't know," I told him. "It's cool."

"I just like people," he explained, "we can learn so much from each other, but, sometimes, people can feel so confronted when a stranger comes up to them.  It's sad."

"I did," I admitted, kind of sheepishly.

"I know," he laughed, "I get why you did, though."

"It didn't last too long," I assured him.  "You're easy to be around."

"I try."  

I sat up slightly, and, in the pale moonlight, I saw him grin.  I smiled back.

"What would you do instead, if you didn't have your job?"  I wondered and he twisted his mouth, lifting his shoulder in a small shrug.

"I'd probably be... a radioactive space slug."

"A... what?"

"Only on Wednesdays, though."

"Kyra, you're so strange."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No."  I brushed my hair back out of my face and smiled again, settling back down beside him, and he propped himself up on one arm to stare down at me.

"I like that about you, Ash," he said sincerely, all traces of his laughter and teasing gone.  "You're so open minded, just letting everyone be themselves without judging them for it."

"Why would I judge someone for being different?"  I wondered.  "The world has too many clones trying to live up to something they're not.  That's what I think is sad."

"You're right," he agreed.  "It's cool, that you can be you."