Page 15 of Cozy Prisons (Human Pets of Talin: Origins #4)

Nataly

By the time Daxus was done, Nataly’s place looked a lot like a well-organized repair shop instead of a mess of a domicile.

She didn’t care that her personal space resembled a store because now she could easily find anything she needed.

No more searching through piles or boxes; everything was in bins and on shelves with thin displays adhered to every bin that continuously scrawled a list of the contents.

The ceiling was also repaired, although it was clear where the damage had been.

Daxus had a talent for organization but not for using repair paste.

The paste kept hardening on him before he had it spread completely so he’d have to apply more.

There was now a downward-facing mound where the hole had been.

There had been a lot of annoyed rattling while he worked. It made Nataly giggle quietly to herself.

As long as the rest of the ceiling was stable, Nataly didn’t care.

She got Daxus to stop fiddling with the ceiling by trying to unload a box of shelving by herself.

If she hadn’t done that, Daxus might’ve kept going until she had a column in the center of her domicile instead of a little, misshapen dome.

“This is perfect,” she said to the empty room.

Daxus was a hard worker but still attentive whenever she talked.

He never set anything up without checking with her first. Once they were done, Daxus had even taken all the trash to the reclamater and brought back dinner.

There was still only one chair, so he sat on the worktable and she sat in the chair.

The entire time they were cleaning, organizing, and then eating had felt like a long date.

Nataly wasn’t ashamed to admit it was the best time she’d had in a while. Not only was Daxus great company, but the anxiety was now only a low-level buzz she could easily ignore.

Daxus’s magical effect on her anxiety made her regret sending him home. He’d offered to stay and sleep on the floor, but she’d been determined to try out her new plan. Besides, asking the guy to sleep on the floor seemed selfish and a poor reward for all the help.

She needed to get over her issue, and the only way she knew how to deal with a problem was by chipping away at it until she either broke through or exhausted herself. It probably wasn’t the most effective way to deal with things, but it was her way.

Tonight she was determined to start fixing herself, and she couldn’t do it if he was present.

She busied herself with going over the data crystal from a mover bot that wasn’t moving correctly.

Eventually, she found the problem code where someone tried to add a patch that taught the bot to climb steep mountains, but it was for an older version, so instead the code made the bot think it could climb anything, including trees.

“And fixed,” she declared, removing the patch and cleaning up the fragmented code where the patch had inserted itself. “I’m sorry bot, but climbing rocky hills will never be in your skill set.”

After setting the crystal into a finishing bath to rebuild the protective coating that was rubbed off when it was removed from the bot, she stood up and stretched.

Talins came from such a rich society that they were used to simply throwing out bots like the mover when they stopped functioning.

Nataly and the rest of the humans couldn’t imagine being that wasteful, so she spent a lot of time fixing things the Talins thought of as useless.

They sure appreciated her when the resupply ship was late or understocked!

She liked that her work was useful but not stressful. It was the perfect balance of busy but not frantic.

Once she finished stretching, she faced the door. It was late and most everyone would’ve gone to bed by now. It was time. No more stalling or putting it off.

She walked to the door, stood in the open doorway, and looked for a spot.

There was a mark at the end of the narrow path to her domicile.

She thought it was where Hale had stopped and scuffed the dirt up in a circle, as if they kept changing their mind on which direction to go; forward or back to her domicile.

That was the perfect distance. Focusing on the circle, she ordered her legs to move. Her strides were short and slow, but she made it there. She didn’t rejoice yet, however.

Turning around, she stared at her home while counting to five. The moment the count was up, she let herself walk back.

She stumbled a little walking back over her threshold, but no panic took her to her knees or made it hard to breathe. After leaning against the open doorway for a few breaths, she repeated the process.

She’d arbitrarily decided that she needed to do this ten times before she could consider herself successful. This was the first step. She’d keep doing the same little route every night until walking this distance didn’t bother her at all. Then she’d pick a spot further away and do the same thing.

Eventually, she’d be able to walk anywhere without any issues. Or at least that was the hope.

Except every time she walked to the spot, it got harder, not easier.

“No,” she whispered, feeling her chest get tight halfway to Hale’s dirt circle. This was only her sixth time; she had four more to go!

“I’m practicing,” she told her body, even as her legs stopped moving and her heartbeat kicked up. “This is supposed to be easy. This is nothing. Home is right behind me.”

All the familiar indicators started screaming at her to turn around and retreat back to safety. If she couldn’t even do this, how was she ever going to fix herself?

Tears burned her eyes as she fought with all her willpower to keep herself facing away from her home.

If she turned around, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself.

Her palms had tiny, healing cuts where she’d punctured herself yesterday during the ship’s unloading. By some miracle, Daxus hadn’t noticed.

She dug her nails in again, letting the pain help her focus. She was able to make it another two steps before her legs froze again. The spot was at least four more steps away.

A little sob escaped her. She was so tired of this.

“Nataly?”

She gasped and jerked around. Daxus stepped out of the shadows next to her house. What was he doing here? More importantly, how long had he been lurking near her home?

“Are you looking for something?” he asked, approaching cautiously.

“Um, yeah,” she said. The fear threatening to swamp her receded as he drew close. She wiped at her face, afraid that he might see the remnant of the few tears that escaped her hold.

“Let me fetch some walking torches, and we can search together,” he offered.

She forced herself to laugh. It sounded high-pitched and manic instead of lighthearted, but it was the best she could do.

“I’ll wait until tomorrow,” she said.

He learned over a little to put his face even with hers. “What’s on your cheeks?”

“Nothing,” she said, and went to wipe her face again, worried she’d missed a tear. He grabbed her wrist to stop her movement. His grip was gentle, but firm. She wasn’t going to get loose until he released her.

“Don’t touch yourself; I smell blood. You could be injured and not realize it.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said, working a smile onto her face. “Probably a little scratch.”

“I’m going to pick you up and carry you to Healer Falkilm,” he stated.

No! She wouldn’t be able to handle being scanned and questioned by Falkilm while Daxus stood there and told the healer everything he’d seen.

She sucked in a deep breath and used the same commanding voice she’d used back when she was the repair lead on a station. “No, Daxus.”

He reared back, but didn’t let go of her wrist. “No?”

“No,” she said, feeling her old self coming back a little. “We’re going to walk into my domicile. You’ll fix some tea, and I’ll check my face in the mirror.”

“No more tea,” he said. “It’s too late for that.”

“Fine, we can have some sopa,” she agreed. Who cared about the tea when he was giving in on the more important issue?

Using his grip on her wrist to lead him as if they were holding hands, she faced the house and started walking. He followed.

“I’ll see to your face,” he said, as the door slid shut behind them.

Ducking her head down, some of her hair helped hide her face. “If it’s dirt, I’ll be embarrassed. Let me check for myself.”

Her ploy didn’t work. “Why be embarrassed? Without paved roads, we all battle the dust and dirt constantly.”

He finally let go of her hand but was quick to circle around her and put the single chair in front of her.

“Let me fetch a cleansing cloth,” he said, moving away. “Then I’ll get you some sopa.”

She sighed and rubbed under her eyes. She didn’t feel any fresh wetness. Maybe it was dirt. That’d be funny! Almost getting dragged to Falkilm because of some suspicious smelling dirt.

When he returned, he sank to his knees in front of her. More confident now, she lifted her face, only to have him let out a worried rumble.

“It’s blood,” he said, dabbing gently at the skin under her right eye and down her cheek.

“What?” she said, startled. She hadn’t fallen or run into anything, so how was there blood on her face?

“I don’t see an obvious wound,” he said, purring loudly. She remained still while he worked, even though she was dying to look in a mirror. Finally, he sat back and sounded a questioning rumble. “There’s no injury. The blood must’ve come from somewhere else.”

“I told you there was nothing wrong,” she said, even as he started taking short quick breaths through his nose slits. He leaned in close and moved his nose in the air around her. When he got close to her lap, she tried to chuckle and pushed his head away.

“Hey, usually you understand personal space better than that,” she teased.

He grabbed her wrist and focused on her hand. “What happened here?”

She’d forgotten about digging her fingernails into her palm. Damn, not only had she opened old wounds, but it looked like she might’ve created a couple of new ones.

“A little accident, that’s all,” she said, trying to pull free of Daxus’s grasp. He kept his hold strong enough so she couldn’t get free, but not harsh.

“All these cuts are crescent-shaped,” he continued, putting his face almost into her palm. He shifted his focus to meet her gaze. “Did you do this to yourself?"

“By accident,” she said, forcing a smile on her lips.

“Stop,” he ordered.

“Stop having accidents?" she answered, still going for humorous deflection. “I’ll try, but you know us humans. We’re a clumsy species, or have you forgotten that I knocked myself out of my own chair earlier when Hale startled me?”

He was silent for a moment, then let go of her hand and sat back on his heels.

“Why do you insist on prevaricating with me? I’ve been nothing but sincere and honest with you.

I’d willingly answer any question you posed to me, but you equivocate or distract when I query you.

What can I do to prove myself as trustworthy? ”

Before she’d seen her struggle as shameful, but now she was forced to look at it from another angle. How would she feel if a member of her community was fighting internal demons but wouldn’t let her help?

If she were honest with herself, it would be devastating.

She pulled in a shaky breath, letting her arm go limp in Daxus’s hold. “It’s not you,” she whispered.

“Talk to me, Nataly,” he urged, purring low and soft.

She opened her mouth, trying to tell him everything that was going on, but the words caught in her throat.

“I-I-I can’t,” she stuttered.

She felt like a failure at everything.

He never stopped purring. “At least let me spend the night.”

Those seemed like magic words. The weird shakiness that made her limbs feel weak eased. “Yes, I’d like that!”

She jumped up and hurried to the shelving where all the extra bedding was stored. “I can make a bed for you on the floor next to my, um, nest.”

Daxus didn’t move from where he was kneeling. “Is that what you want?”

No. She wanted him in the bed with her, but she was scared to ask for that.

There were human-Talin couples, so she knew they were a compatible species.

But Daxus wasn’t expressing any interest toward her beyond that of a friend.

She didn’t want to wake up to find she’d started groping him in the middle of the night and driven him away.

“Yes, this is what I want,” she said.

Getting to his feet, Daxus walked to her. “Then I’ll stay.” He took the bundle of bedding she was holding. “Let me do that. You shouldn’t be using your hands.”

Even though he was still purring, she could tell Daxus wasn’t pleased with her. That made two of them!

She went back to her bed and flopped down, trying hard to ignore the jumble of emotions bubbling up inside her. All she could hope was that they didn’t explode all over Daxus!

Once he was done making his bed, he cared for her hands. He was incredibly gentle as he cleaned her “wounds,” applied the numbing healing gel, and wrapped them.

He finally settled on his bed, leaning against the wall. It was easier to think when he wasn’t touching her, but she missed the contact.

“Can I do anything to make you more comfortable?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I should be asking you that. You’re the one stuck on the floor. You know, we could trade.” She got the answer she expected.

“This arrangement is fine; we don’t need to switch it.”

She scooted around on the bed until she was sitting as close as she could to Daxus without falling off the edge. Mirroring his position by shoving some pillows behind her back, she draped her arm down and wiggled her fingers.

“Could we hold hands?”

He sounded a negative rattle. “No, you shouldn’t be grasping anything, remember?”

Damn it, they were only little cuts. She sighed and put her hands in her lap, staring at the stupid wounds.

“I can’t force you to talk to me,” he murmured. “But I’m not leaving your side until I understand what’s going on.”

She should say something. Anything. She should at least thank him for the care, but a sudden wave of numbness fell over her. It was as if her emotions had been treated by the same analgesic as her hands.

A shiver went through her despite the comfortable temperature of her domicile. It wasn’t that she was cold, exactly. She felt alone and adrift. Daxus seemed the only solid thing in her world.

“Would you hold me?” she whispered. “Please.”

He opened his arms and she flew off the bed and into his lap. She nestled into his embrace, letting herself be held and coddled for once.

“I think I’m tired of being strong,” she said, voice muffled against his chest.

“We can’t all be strong all the time,” he responded. “At some point, everyone needs to allow someone else to take the burden for them.”

Closing her eyes, she let herself relax and pretend that everything could be fixed with a hug.