Page 32 of The Alien in the Archive (Galactic Librarians #1)

32

THORNE

F or weeks, the Obscuary has become more and more uncomfortable. At first, I tolerated it. I sought Page’s mind when I was bored, and that satisfied me.

But now that I've had her…the silence is impossibly, horribly loud.

Ashlan chirps softly from his perch on my desk, his antennae glowing faint orange. He senses my restlessness, the way my thoughts churn and pull me in circles. The cushions where Page and I lay tangled together remain rumpled, her scent lingering. I have to admit it—I’m and addict. She's irreplaceable, even the touch of her mind is no longer enough to satisfy me.

I try writing. I try reading. But I write in her notebook, and I read the novels we've swapped over these past days, and she's everywhere.

I glance over at Ashlan.

“She's annoyingly pleasant to be around, isn't she?” I mutter.

He chirps.

“Glad to know you agree,” I sigh .

Ashlan leaps down to wind around my feet as I stand, heading to the exit. I pull on the hooded sweater Page gave me—or liberated from her brother, more accurately—then I cover it with my coat. I don’t normally go as far as Mythara Village, but it should be perfectly fine. If anyone sees me, I can use my telepathy to make them forget. Even the small sips of Page’s blood I’ve taken have helped me regain some power.

The corridors of the Labyrinth are quiet as I descend, the stone walls cool to the touch. I’ve been cold a long time…and it’s strange to be warmer than my surroundings. I hug my coat around my shoulders, following Ashlan, his antennae glowing bright yellow to guide the way.

He’s like a hound, leading me toward the person he prefers to spend time with. “You like her better than me, don’t you?” I mutter.

Ashlan chirps and moves faster.

I’m impatient to see her by the time we climb out of the Labyrinth, the stars bright overhead as I slip through a curtain of vines and into the foothills. Mythara Village stretches out below us, a path just ahead.

“Come on, Ashlan,” I murmur, reaching toward him. The lumivix chirps and hops onto my arm, then crawls into my coat and into the pocket of Riley’s hoodie. “Good…people would want to pet you. We can’t have that.”

The cobblestones thud under my boots as I shove my hands in my pockets, keeping my head down. I pass a couple walking up into the foothills to stargaze—a Mlok and a Merati, arm in arm. They pay me no mind, too wrapped up in each other to care.

I follow the resonance of Page’s mind, grateful that she lives on the outskirts of the village. I pass a few simple cottages, flowers in the windows, glow lights illuminating the path. I remember this from when she let me into her thoughts, when she walked back from the Merati bar. Her door is just a few more steps ahead, a single window lit up.

She’s alone; another relief. In hindsight, I should’ve checked in before I came here, but I somehow got it in my head that I would surprise her. I wonder if I should turn back, if she’ll be angry?—

But she senses me brushing against her mind…

…and I see her.

In that single window, leaning over a desk, her hair tied half-up. She looks up, then out onto the path.

“Thorne?” I hear her say in my mind.

I let out an annoyed breath and go to the door, preparing to knock, but the door opens before I can.

Page is standing at the threshold, wide-eyed, her hair a little mussed from where she’s pulled it back. She’s in her sleep clothes—soft, loose pants and an oversized sweater that slips off one shoulder. She blinks at me, stunned. Meanwhile, I am entirely distracted by her bare shoulder.

“Thorne,” she says. “You’re here. In the village. At my house.”

I shrug, my hands still stuffed into my pockets. “I couldn’t sleep.”

She gives me a half smile. “Likewise,” she says, then she’s reaching for me, pulling me in. “Now get inside before someone sees you.”

I do as she says, the warmth of the cottage enveloping me. Ashlan pokes his head out of my pocket, chirping to catch Page’s attention. She shuts the door behind us and glances at the lumivix with a grin. “Of course you brought him,” she laughs. “Does he ever leave your side?”

“Not if he can help it,” I grumble. I pull off my coat and lay it on the arm of her sofa, Ashlan hopping down to pad across the floor to Page. “I think he favors you, though, and he tagged along because he knew I was coming here. ”

“Well, I don’t blame him,” she teases. “Apparently he’s not the only one who finds me irresistible. Now…sit down and let me make you some tea or something.”

I hesitate, glancing around the room. It’s cozy—just one room and a bathroom, books piled on every surface. Her bed is behind a screen in the far corner, a fireplace with a crackling flame in the hearth.

“Unless you’d rather not?” she hesitates. “I mean, shit. I don’t even know if you drink tea. Do you eat?”

“Rarely,” I murmur. “My age and the Elixir slowed down all natural processes, but I’ve been more hungry lately.”

She meets my eyes, swallowing hard.

We’re both considering it; even in the minutes I’ve been here, all I can think about is taking her to bed.

“So…tea it is, then,” she says.

Page moves toward the kitchenette, her bare feet padding softly against the wood floor. She looks over her shoulder as she rummages through a cupboard. “I’ve got all kinds of tea. Earl Grey, peppermint, uh…okay, mostly just different boxes of Earl Grey. Then there’s this stuff I got from the market, Ka’reth cloudweed?”

“I don’t know what any of these are,” I reply.

“Huh, right,” she says. “Okay…”

She turns around and smiles at me.

“Read my mind.”

I frown. “For tea?”

“Yeah. You can tell what it tastes like if I remember it, right?”

I cock my head, smirking. “You know…you come up with the most interesting uses for telepathy.”

She bites her lip. “I’m sure we could get even more creative.”

I stand, crossing the room slowly. Her teasing smile falters as I close the distance between us, coming around the counter, her breath hitching when I stop just a step away. I reach out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Alright then,” I say. “Think of tea.”

She holds back a laugh, but locks eyes with me, and I get a taste of each one. Lavender, floral, creamy; peppermint, cool and sharp; and sweet, cloying, strange…

“Earl Grey,” I murmur, pulling back.

“So you prefer a black tea to herbal,” she says. “Noted.”

I shake my head. “No…I didn’t actually pick. I could just tell it’s your favorite.”

“That’s cheating,” she laughs. “You could have guessed. I mean, I said I have the most of it?—”

“You didn’t have to,” I reply. “I can always tell when you like something. It’s a distinct kind of pleasure.”

Her cheeks flush and she whips her head back toward the cupboard, evading me. “Well, since you’re so confident, I guess we’re going with Earl Grey.”

I step back, leaning against the counter as I watch her fill the kettle. Being here with her…it feels so good. Right.

“You’re staring,” she says without turning around.

“You’re worth staring at.”

“I’m doing what I do every single night,” she laughs. “Making tea, reading, writing…you’re the most interesting part of my life, Thorne.”

“I would love nothing more than to be ordinary with you,” I murmur.

She gives me a soft smile. “Right…I can picture us with a white picket fence, me baking an apple pie while you brood over the grill.”

“That sounded like complete gibberish to me.”

“Don’t worry, it’s bullshit anyway,” she waves her hand. “No…I’m trying to imagine our ordinary. A cute little house? Maybe a couple more lumivix or even a dog? Teaching, talking all night… ”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that the only thing you want to do all night?”

She bites her lip, shaking her head as she looks down at the mugs she’s preparing beside the stove.

“We could also drink tea,” she teases.

The kettle whistles; Page shuts off the stove, then pours steaming water into the mugs.

“Well?” she says. “Go sit down. I don’t want you to make me spill.”

I take a seat on the couch, close enough to feel the warmth from the fireplace. Ashlan hops up beside me, curling into a tiny ball. As the warmth of the room seeps into me, far more inviting than the cold halls of the Obscuary, Page comes in with both mugs.

She hands me one of them, aromatic steam wafting off of it—fruit and flowers, delicate yet robust. Page sits down beside me and tucks her legs underneath her, then takes a sip from her cup.

She moans softly. “Mm…that’s perfect,” she says. “Always a classic. Now, drink it, come on.”

I try mine as well, and I let her into my mind for that first sip. I’m not sure if I like it purely because I acquired a taste for it from her…but I don’t particularly care.

“What do you think?” she asks.

I laugh. “You already know what I think. You’re in my head.”

“Okay…well other than the telepathy, look at us being ordinary,” she says. “Tea, a cozy fire, and the galaxy’s last Borean sitting on my couch. Completely normal.”

“Utterly mundane,” I agree. “And yet…I can’t imagine anything better.”

“Hmph,” she says. “You’re laying it on thick tonight.”

“I’m trying to be ordinary,” I argue. I take another sip of the tea, glancing up at Page when I realize she’s still waiting on a critique. “It’s good, Page. Better than expected.”

“High praise from someone who’s basically immortal. Earl Grey survives another century of scrutiny.”

We finish our tea in companionable silence, the crackle of the fire filling the room as the warmth seeps into me. Page sets her mug down on the table, her gaze lingering on the flames. Ashlan grumbles when she shifts closer to me, clearly displeased that his spot has been compromised. With an indignant huff, he trots over to the hearth, curling up near the fire to bask in its warmth.

Page leans against my shoulder, her body warm and soft against mine. I let out a small breath, settling into the moment, the strange comfort of it. My tea is going cold, but I don’t care. The sensation of her beside me eclipses the warmth of any drink.

I put the mug down and, without thinking, reach for her hand. Her fingers immediately intertwine with mine.

“Wait a minute,” she starts.

“What?” I glance down at her, raising a brow.

Her face is scrunched in thought, her lips twitching as if she’s debating whether or not to say whatever’s on her mind. Then she looks up at me.

“If you don’t eat…” she begins slowly. “Okay. Thorne—it just occurred to me. There’s no bathroom in the Obscuary.”

I blink at her. “There are toilets,” I say, not entirely sure where this is going.

She waves that off. “Yeah, yeah, toilets, fine. But not…a shower? How do you bathe?”

I shrug. “There are natural springs in the Labyrinth. Considering I don’t eat and most of my bodily functions have been paused…bathing isn’t exactly a high priority.”

She cringes, her nose wrinkling. “So you haven’t had a hot bath in how long? ”

I frown, genuinely trying to remember. “You know…I’m not sure.”

Page bites her lip, her teeth tugging at the soft curve, and my attention is immediately captured.

“Would you like to have one?” she asks, her voice quiet but certain.

I tilt my head, giving her a small, amused smile. “Would this entail both of us being naked?”

She nods, her cheeks flushing slightly, but her gaze doesn’t waver. “That’s…kind of the idea, yeah.”

My smile widens, warmth blooming in my chest at her boldness, her ease. This woman, in all her impossible contradictions, never ceases to surprise me.

“Then yes,” I say, my voice low, the hint of a chuckle in the words. “I think I would.”