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Naomi, however, didn’t start anything sensual with Kilean, choosing to soap his fur instead. He carefully watched, holding an intense look that she couldn’t decipher. Kilean let her touch him everywhere without comment and let her silently manhandle him.

“Your turn,” she told him, grinning.

When he put his soap-filled hands on her, he was oh so careful, so gentle, as he slowly cleaned every part of her. She hadn’t expected his touch to be so light and reverent, and her chest only ached more. The post-orgasm clarity was hitting her, and the more time passed, the more she remembered that this was only temporary, and that the clock was ticking very quickly.

Once they’d washed their bodies, Naomi took the task of drying him, happy to show her affection in some way. She thought she could only afford small gestures like these, scared to say too much or seem eager. Kilean seemed to have some affection for her, but she couldn’t risk scaring him away.

They ended up in the kitchen after Kilean asked to cook together, preparing dinner and the cookies Kilean had loved so much before. He asked her about herself, her job, how her life had changed in the time they spent apart.

“Last time I saw you, your hair was like a beautiful coppery halo,” Kilean said, voice full of awe. “But now it falls in dark braids with soft, curly ends. You look so you and so different at the same time. Both styles suit you very much.”

Naomi moved her knotless braids to the side, flaunting them around.

“I like to change it up from time to time,” she replied, smiling.

“I wish I could see how you change in the future, too,” he said, his hopeless tone so quiet that her heart ached.

“Couldn’t you?”

His eyes snapped to hers, a frown appearing on his face.

“Do you think we can make this a habit?” she asked him, very carefully. “You said that you had no control over where they sent you, but I still hoped you’d find your way back here somehow. And you did.”

Naomi looked down, biting her lower lip. Imagining the air was courage, she took a deep breath to muster some, and continued.

“If I keep coming back here around this time every year, would you try to come back as well?”

He was quiet for a moment—a moment that felt like eternity.

“What if I can’t?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she immediately said. “I’ll keep coming back every year anyway. Even if I can only see you again in three or ten years, it doesn’t matter.”

“Would you really waste your life for me?”

“I don’t see it as a waste.” Her hope slowly snuffed out, her shoulders slumping. “Unless you don’t want to come back.”

“That’s not it,” he said without hesitation. “That has never been it. I just don’t think I’ll be able to take care of you the way you’d need, or see you as much as we’d both want.”

Kilean looked physically pained, his broad shoulders slumping as he closed in on himself. Knowing that he, too, was suffering from the precarity of their situation, gave Naomi some comfort.

“Could we try it anyway? If it doesn’t work, we’ll tell each other to give up and move on,” she tried. If it was already hard enough to communicate now, Naomi wasn’t sure how they’d contact each other in that case, but she hoped they’d never have to figure that out. “I just don’t want to give up so soon without even trying first.”

“It could be dangerous, too,” he continued. “If they find us out… I might not be able to protect you.”

She spoke without hesitation. “I’m okay with taking that risk.”

He busied himself with cutting the vegetables, his eyes avoiding hers.

“I don’t have anything of value in my life. I exist only to be a mindless follower, an obedient worker. Life for creatures like me is not a life the way humans intended.” His tone carried sadness and resignation, and for a moment he sounded so old, like a man who had lived past his capacity and was now so, so tired. “If I can have something to look forward to—if I can have you, even just for a day every year, that would be my honor.”

The back of her eyes burned, but Naomi did her best to hold back the tears. She waited a moment to speak, to make sure her voice wouldn’t come out wobbly.

“It would be my honor, too.”

She gently pressed her side to his—a silent comfort—and eventually, his lips pulled into a small smile.

They kept cooking in silence, then each sat on opposites sides of the counter with their plates.