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I jolted, then whipped my head around so fast that Fallon was forced to let go of my hair so that he didn’t rip half of it out.
“Sora, like, Sora, Sora? Our Sora?”
Our Sora. The significance of the words only struck me after I’d said them.
“Yes. She was collected by the authorities as evidence in the case. Stray animals are not common or particularly welcome on Zabria. After the investigation, the options were to destroy her or ship her off-world. I suppose the Empire thought it was easier to just send her away. Same way they did with me.”
“How are you not still angry?” I asked, my gaze searching his. I was furious on his behalf, hearing about everything he’d gone through. But his eyes were a calm, warm brown, that pretty maple spilling out from the centres. “You were a troubled kid who killed someone and then got ripped from his home. How did you not completely spiral out of control?”
“Sora helped,” he said, “As did my old warden. He was a stern but good man. Besides, Zabria was never really a home for me. I did not look at my exile like some of the other men here do. I considered it a relief. It was a fresh start. I love working with my hands. I love the land. I love Sora and the shuldu and the bracku. And I love you.”
He said it so easily, looking right into my eyes. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Being sent here saved my life. Marrying you completed it.”
I should tell him.
Tell him everything. About my mom and Massimo and the whole big mess of the reason I’d come here. Fallon had been so honest. He’d ripped open the trauma of his past, showed me who he’d once been, and all I could do was sit there, so painfully proud of him, in awe of him, while simultaneously feeling like the biggest fucking fraud.
He’d told me his history. Didn’t I owe it to him to tell him mine?
Instead, like a coward, I just nodded, thanked him for telling me, smiled brightly, and said, “So. How long do you think we should wait before we wash this stuff out?”
28
DARCY
While I was washing the pink dye from my hair in the shower, Fallon must have cleared away the dishes and remnants of dinner. Because when I came out into the kitchen, the table was clean. There was no sign of Fallon, so I headed for the bedroom, stopping in the doorway when I saw him.
He was fast asleep, but in such a position that it looked like he’d been trying to stay up and wait for me. He was sitting more than lying on the bed, propped up against the wooden headboard, the quilt only pulled up to his hips. His big arms were crossed over his gently rising and falling chest. His head was tipped back, his expression serene, his hands stained slightly pink. He looked so cute, so perfect, that I wanted to hop right into his lap and wake him with a kiss. But I knew he needed rest, and I wanted to give my hair a chance to dry after washing it, so I sat myself down on a chair in front of the low fire in the kitchen.
I fingered the ends of my hair as they went from soaked to damp to mostly dry. The colour was darker than before, more of a bright fuchsia than the pale pink it had once been. I checked my appearance in my comms tablet’s camera, and decided I like the new shade. Really liked it, actually. I was struck with the urge to wake Fallon again, this time to show him how pretty my hair had turned out, and to thank him for it.
I toyed with the idea, but footsteps and snuffling from outside the kitchen window distracted me. A quick look outside told me that Sora was wandering around out there, patrolling in her boredom now that the bracku and Fallon were resting for the night.
With Fallon’s story about her strangling me, I wrapped my robe tighter around myself and headed out the door.
She barked and bounded towards me the moment she saw me. I laughed and embraced her as she did her utmost to tackle me on the porch.
“Shh! Your daddy is sleeping,” I told her with muffled giggles as she made a solid effort towards licking my face off. Eventually, she chilled out – slightly – and was content to pace back and forth on the porch, her shaggy tail going absolutely bananas.
“Fallon told me about what happened to you two,” I said to her, scratching her ears when she sat in front of me. “I’m so glad he had you. That you had each other.”
I couldn’t help but picture it. A young, scrawny Fallon, maybe about the size of that Killian kid, and a little baby Sora. Both of them taking care of each other. I wiped my eyes and smiled.
“I love you, good girl,” I told her, getting down on my knees and hugging her neck. I buried my face in her fur so that I couldn’t hear myself say the next part. “And I think I love your daddy, too.”
A little while later, after I’d given in to Sora’s big, pleading eyes and had bestowed the magical gift of a spare bit of meat upon her, I went back into the house. It was very late now, the stars and three moons bright and silvery in the black sky behind me as I shut the door. I stole quietly down the hall and into the bedroom. Fallon was still mostly sitting with his arms crossed, but he’d slid down a little bit. His chin was now tucked down against his chest. It did not look comfortable. At all.
Strangely, it wasn’t my mother’s voice reminding me that a husband’s comfort was of the utmost importance. It was my own self deciding that Fallon sleeping in such an awkward position was unacceptable. I wanted him to sleep well. I didn’t want him to feel stiff and sore when he woke up.
“Lie down, Fallon,” I murmured, gently pressing my hands against his shoulders. But apparently he was stubborn in his sleep. He grumbled without opening his eyes and didn’t move. After several unsuccessful attempts at either guiding him down to the pillows or waking him up, I gave up, shaking my head at him with my hands on my hips. My own exhaustion was creeping up on me, so I decided to just leave him be. If he was sore in the morning, I could give him a neck rub or something.
I shed my robe and hurried naked into the bed on the other side, pulling the quilt up to my chin. As if my entrance into the bed had flipped some switch in Fallon’s sleeping brain, he suddenly flopped down gracelessly onto his side facing me, his head on the pillows, his eyes still shut. Instantly, his tail was around my left thigh, and a heavy arm closed over me, drawing my back against the hard curve of his front.
He was naked, just like I was. My eyes flew open, my heart pounding, exhaustion forgotten as my skin met his.
“Fallon,” I whispered, heat pooling low in my belly. “Are you awake?”
