He’s still asleep.
Treading as lightly as I can, I sneak over to my suitcase, lying open on the dresser, and pick out fresh clothes, my mind a whirlwind.
The creaky floorboards have me holding my breath as I make my way toward the bathroom. Thank heavens for small mercies, I think as I softly turn the knob. I only partially close the door, needing to make sure I can hear if Ravok calls for me. I turn the knob to as hot as possible and brush my teeth as I wait for the water to heat. The sound of running water soon echoes in the confined space and steam starts to fog up the mirror.
Undressing, I step into the one-degree-less-than-scalding spray, sighing in relief as the water cascades onto my sore muscles. I feel like I lost a boxing match – everything hurts. Letting the shower cleanse me of dirt and my worries, I scrub every inch of my body.
Before too long, I’m toweling off, the momentary reprieve from the dangerous and bizarre situation creeping back onto me. Then I have a thought that stops me in my tracks. At the rate that Ravok is healing, I wonder how long it will be before he is back on his feet and ready to head back into space. The pang in my chest at the thought pulls me up short.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror momentarily, my heart pounding at the thought of Ravok leaving. “He’s not a rescue you’re picking up from the shelter, you stupid woman. He can’t stay. He’s in danger every moment he is here,” I remind myself sternly. I need to be thankful that I’ve had this chance.
How many people in the world have had a chance to meet an alien? I hope I’ve been a good representative of my people. Although I think back to the scars littering Ravok’s body and suspect I’m not the first human he’s encountered.
With a sigh, I tie my hair into its usual messy bun before turning to grab my jeans.
A sudden pounding echoes from the front of the cabin, scaring me so bad I drop the jeans and almost pee myself. It shatters my moment of tranquility like a hammer to glass. Scrambling out of the bathroom, I grab my damp towel from the hook and wrap it around my body as I skid across the slippery tiles, nearly toppling over.
I sprint out of the bathroom, terrified that either someone will come inside and see Ravok or that my alien will make some noise to give away his presence. I skid to a stop in the doorway leading to the bedroom. Darting a glance into the room, I barely manage to stifle a startled gasp. Ravok’s awake, alright. His snowy-white eyes are wide open, and something about his gaze strikes me as feral. His teeth are bared and he looks like he wants to leap out of the bed and kill something.
I mime for him to remain in place, placing a finger to my lips for silence. I try to keep my face calm, praying that Ravok understands. I straighten my shoulders, tugging the towel tighter around my body, and rush towards the front door.
As I approach, my heart pounding a phantom rhythm in my ears, I notice a silhouette through the door’s glass. The form is familiar, and a whiff of relief washes over me.
“Koko,” I breathe out, a relieved smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I didn’t realize that I was bracing for the men in black to show up until I recognized her at the door. I’m so relieved I feel faint. I reach out, clutching the brass handle, and crack open the door.
Despite my relief, this could all still go horribly wrong and I’m so nervous that I feel like I’m made from a bowl of quivering jelly. “Koko. Good morning,” I greet, wrapping the towel tighter around myself. My gaze darts behind me to make sure that Ravok has stayed put as I told him to. I also position myself to block her view inside.
“Oh, Lily, my dear,” she starts, a blush of guilt coloring her cheeks as she takes in my lack of clothing, “I should’ve called before coming. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
The panic ebbs away as I coax a grateful smile onto my face. “No worries. You just caught me getting out of the shower,” I tell her, pressing both palms tightly against the towel to hide my shaky hands. “I’m just glad to see you, is all. You didn’t bring your dog with you?” Remembering Mango’s reaction to the dog the last time, the last thing I need is either animal freaking out again.
Koko lifts a paper shopping bag, her face splitting into a sunny smile as she hands it over. “Oh, he wanted to come but made him stay home. Here are the clothes you requested, dear. I picked out the biggest size they had in stock.”
I peer into the bag, my heart hammering again at the sight. It’s a set of gray jersey clothes – sweatpants and a pullover hoodie – soft and comfortable looking but undeniably masculine in cut. “Koko… thank you. These are perfect.”
She waves me off with a chuckle, her blonde curls bouncing with the motion. “Don’t worry about that. You know… if you have a male guest, I don’t mind as long as he treats you and the cabin well. I even included an extra toothbrush, just in case.”
A laugh bursts from me, unexpected and nervous. “I assure you, Koko, there is no man.” No human, at least. I can feel a blush creeping up my cheeks, probably making Koko think I’m lying.
“Well,” she shrugs, throwing her hands out wide, “I’ve been known to be wrong before.” A mischievous twinkle sparks in her eyes as she adds, “No harm, no foul, yes?” Her laugh dances through the morning air, carrying away my nerves alongside it.
Koko turns to leave but stops suddenly. “Oh! By the way, I saw Dr. Patel in town this morning – he runs the local hospital. When I told him about you, he said that they actually need a good nurse. You should send him your resume!”
“Oh, um. That is very kind of you. But I’m just passing through.”
“I know, but it never hurts to try. Let me know if you change your mind! You would love it here. Lublin Harbor is a great place to live.” Koko gives me a wide, hopeful grin that I don’t know how to respond to.
Thankfully, she takes her leave after another quick apology for interrupting my morning, leaving me to deal with the continued bizarre unraveling of my usually mundane life. Alone again, I lean against the closed door, the bag slipping through my nerveless fingers to land unceremoniously onto the wooden floor, a strange laugh echoing from my lips.
I give myself a moment to breathe and calm down. There is no need to return to Ravok looking scared and flustered.
With a deep breath, I reach down for the forgotten bag. “I imagine he’ll be relieved to cover up,” I whisper to myself. It’s almost a shame to cover that physique. Ravok makes Michelangelo’s David look positively puny. I glance at the heather-gray knitted jersey, which is made of simple, soft-tone colors that I believe may complement his metallic skin tone. Running a hand nervously through my messy hair, I round the corner, bag in hand, and freeze.
In the narrow hallway leading to the single room of the cabin, Ravok stands – naked and unabashed. His skin gleams like graphite shavings under the soft glow of the light above his head. He takes up almost all of the hallway, flexed and looking ready to attack. Every muscle of his looks coiled, ready to spring into action, making my heart throb. Makes other things throb too. Ravok is a testament to raw male power.
The long black claws elongating from his hands are splayed menacingly, flexed and ready. His glowing eyes stare past me, looking intently towards the front door. The sight of him, fierce and brutal, hammers fear into my veins. I swallow, forcing down the lump forming in my throat. “Ravok?” I whisper, sending tremors of apprehension skimming down my spine.
My gaze drifts to his arm, the makeshift splint discarded at his feet. “Shit! Ravok, your arm,” I say as I rush to his side. With an anxious sigh, I muster all my strength and attempt to tug Ravok towards the bathroom using his uninjured arm as a guide. My intention is clear as I gesture towards his injured arm. Despite my efforts, he remains unmoving, an unyielding statue that towers over me. Exasperated, I step back, attempting a different approach.
“Look, mister,” I say calmly, pointing at him and then towards the front door. A series of gestures follow, like an impromptu game of charades, each trying to convey that we are safe. “We are alone. No one else here. Safe.” I hope he gets the message, knowing it’s a long shot. He doesn’t look convinced. He looks like he’s about to hulk out.
“Ravok,” I say again, louder this time, trying to reign in my scattered thoughts. The clothes in my hand suddenly feel ridiculously inadequate to cover this alien being’s captivating physique. But I don’t have time for that now. Getting his attention is paramount before whatever frenzy grips him escalates further. It’s time to slip into Nurse Mode again, placing fear aside.
“Easy, easy,” I coo, my voice barely a whisper as I step closer, my gaze straying to his arm, which I’d splinted what felt like ages ago. “You’ve taken off the splint. That’s not wise, Ravok.”
There’s a stubborn set to his jaw, a defiance shining in his eyes that tells me loud and clear he doesn’t care one bit about my opinions on alien healthcare. Swallowing down a sigh, I offer a slight shrug. “Alright. Would you feel better if you saw for yourself that we are alone?”
I grasp Ravok’s strange, silver hand with a cautious yet determined air. His touch sends goosebumps down the length of my arm, but I don’t let it deter me. He blinks down at me, the confusion flickering in his glowing eyes undeniably potent.
“C’mon, big guy.” I coax gently, slipping my arm around Ravok’s waist, trying to support his towering frame as best I can. I tuck myself into his side in case he needs assistance, and we shuffle towards the living room. His glowing eyes dart around the cabin, warily scanning each corner, each shadow, every crevice and object, like a wary predator. As if he expects trouble to leap out from the shadows. Upon reaching the living room, I motion for him to sit on the sofa. His gaze probes around the room, keenly assessing everything and occasionally flicking back to me with a silent kind of questioning.
Eventually, seeming satisfied that we’re safe or maybe just too weary to keep up his defenses, he succumbs, allowing me to guide him to the couch. With a grunt, he lowers himself onto it, every movement causing him discomfort. I bring up a finger, silently commanding him to remain there. Once I’m confident he is settled, I grab my first aid kit, set it on the coffee table before us, and sink into the cushions beside him.
With a trembling hand, I raise it to examine the arm he’d so recklessly freed from its splint. My heart races, not from fear, but from the uncertainty of what I might find. If he re-injured himself, I’m going to be upset.
A small gasp escapes me as I check him over, my brow furrowing in amazement. His arm is… fine. Actually, it’s more than fine. From what I can tell, it looks as if it’s completely healed. I skim my hand over the once swollen and discolored skin, the muscle beneath firm and apparently unaffected by the terrible break I knew it had suffered. As I palpitate the area, I can tell by the clenching of Ravok’s jaw that it is still tender.
“What… how is this possible?” I wonder aloud. I know that he heals at an accelerated rate, but I can’t seem to wrap my brain around it yet. His eyes don’t hold any answers, just a calm acceptance of the miracle before us. An acceptance so casual makes me wonder what else I don’t know about Ravok, this alien who crash-landed in my quiet, boring world. I’m reeling from the surreal reality of the alien breathing beneath my hands.
