10-18-2026, 03:24 PM
She watched their hands as he gently wove his fingers through hers, felt the warms of his hand as their palms met. In the moment she felt herself relax, her hand almost melting into his, her eyes softening as he spoke.
I know what it costs to drop those walls, Amila. You spent a lifetime on Orion learning that keeping your guard up was the only way to protect your future, your autonomy, and your peace.
She hadn’t spoken much about her childhood with him. She didn’t talk about it with anyone. Some of it was shame, some of it was not wanting to be treated differently. She wasn’t worried about prejudice… it was the pity or worse - treating her like she had some sort of special strength for walking away from her family.
How did he understand; was she really that obvious?
She fought back a tear. Not sadness, just the vulnerability from being so seen.
“I spent twenty years building thicker bulkheads around everything, including myself…” she took special note of Morad’s words as she shifted her gaze from their hands to his eyes. He’d always presented himself as so carefree, filling the air with humor and building everyone up around him.
But then, hadn’t she learned how to do the same thing in her own way. She thought back to her first away mission, nearly fresh out of the Academy and how she and Morad - strangers then - easily slipped into a role to fit into the bazaar. Master and servant, she was property that didn’t want to be sold. Without so much as a few words, to follow his lead, they played into each other and it worked. The memory almost made her laugh as she realized they were both actors in their own right.
But not right now. Not here together.
She closed her eyes as he brought her hand to his lips. The soft kiss sending what felt like electoral pulses down through her arm and into her chest, warming her whole body. The sensation lingering as he let go of her hand and poured her a cup of tea.
Her eyes sparkled as she dutifully brought the cup to her lips, first inhaling the aroma and the warmth from the cup. She took a careful sip, testing the temperature. She pulled the cup away and she gazed into his eyes for a moment before taking a second sip, this next one a bit longer.
She placed the cup back on the table and seemed to regard it for a moment before looking back up to Morad. “I didn’t realize…” she smiled and shook her head and started over. “I think maybe you know even better than I realized,” she admitted.
She then looked over to her right, at the open space beside the table and extended both hands out to Morad and stood up.
“Dance with me?”
==Tag==
I know what it costs to drop those walls, Amila. You spent a lifetime on Orion learning that keeping your guard up was the only way to protect your future, your autonomy, and your peace.
She hadn’t spoken much about her childhood with him. She didn’t talk about it with anyone. Some of it was shame, some of it was not wanting to be treated differently. She wasn’t worried about prejudice… it was the pity or worse - treating her like she had some sort of special strength for walking away from her family.
How did he understand; was she really that obvious?
She fought back a tear. Not sadness, just the vulnerability from being so seen.
“I spent twenty years building thicker bulkheads around everything, including myself…” she took special note of Morad’s words as she shifted her gaze from their hands to his eyes. He’d always presented himself as so carefree, filling the air with humor and building everyone up around him.
But then, hadn’t she learned how to do the same thing in her own way. She thought back to her first away mission, nearly fresh out of the Academy and how she and Morad - strangers then - easily slipped into a role to fit into the bazaar. Master and servant, she was property that didn’t want to be sold. Without so much as a few words, to follow his lead, they played into each other and it worked. The memory almost made her laugh as she realized they were both actors in their own right.
But not right now. Not here together.
She closed her eyes as he brought her hand to his lips. The soft kiss sending what felt like electoral pulses down through her arm and into her chest, warming her whole body. The sensation lingering as he let go of her hand and poured her a cup of tea.
Her eyes sparkled as she dutifully brought the cup to her lips, first inhaling the aroma and the warmth from the cup. She took a careful sip, testing the temperature. She pulled the cup away and she gazed into his eyes for a moment before taking a second sip, this next one a bit longer.
She placed the cup back on the table and seemed to regard it for a moment before looking back up to Morad. “I didn’t realize…” she smiled and shook her head and started over. “I think maybe you know even better than I realized,” she admitted.
She then looked over to her right, at the open space beside the table and extended both hands out to Morad and stood up.
“Dance with me?”
==Tag==