Page 49 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

“I’m all set, I’ll just…” I gestured vaguely at nothing.

Standing, I walked past him toward the door.

His hand caught my elbow, bringing me to a stop. “Willa.”

I turned.

He was close enough that I could tell how much darker his green skin was at his temples. His tongue slipped out to lick a stray cookie crumb off his lower lip.

His ridged tongue.

Why hadn’t I heard that orcs had ridged tongues?

I needed to stop thinking about what a tongue like that could do. Pronto.

For a long moment, he just looked at me. Not at my mouth this time. At my eyes, like he was reading something written there.

“Thank you for the cookies,” he said, scooping up the container from the table and placing the cover on the top. “And for telling me about Derek. About why you write in your notebook.” His finger brushed against the inside of my elbow, so light I might have imagined it. “You’re special, Willa. I want you to know that.”

My eyes burned. “Thank you.”

His hand fell away.

I made it to the door before looking back.

He was still standing where I’d left him, the container in hand, watching me with an expression that made my pulse forget how to behave.

Before leaving for the day, I strolled past the enclosures.

The driftwhisps floated over to the edge of the fence, watching me pass. A few were missing, but I’d seen them decorating Laina’s hair earlier. So funny. I wasn’t sure I’d want them clinging to my hair all day. I preferred snuggling Fred. Stroking his soft fur.

I stopped last at the Bloomback enclosure.

Rue and Fern stood pressed together near the far fence, their flowers fully open. Rue’s coral pink and Fern’s deep lavender. As Rue shifted her weight, Fern’s blooms brightened, the petals stretching wider.

Some bonds formed without permission. Without logic or planning or proper documentation.

They just were.

Fern’s flowers had been pale and half-closed the last time they’d been separated. Her appetite had dropped for days. Traig had tried to explain it with data that couldn’t capture what was actually happening. They needed each other, though not because the data said so. Because they’d chosen each other.

I walked back toward the building as the sun sank lower.

My chest felt too full and too light at the same time.

Daily meetings meant daily excuses to feed him. I was going to weaponize baked goods, and I wasn’t sorry about it.

Back at my desk, Fred grumbled from where he’d settled beside my keyboard. Amanda had dismounted and curled on top of my keyboard, her crown dimmed to a soft glow. I gently lifted her to the side, and she hissed, not even waking.

“Love you too,” I whispered.

I pulled out my notebook and opened to the tally page.

Traig brought me coffee again this morning.

I paused, my pen hovering.

Traig ate most of my peanut butter cookies and looked at me like I’d given him something irreplaceable.