“Tell me about yourself,” Vihkir says.

I motion for him to show me his arm, where a cut runs along his wrist—a rare part of his skin that seems to be free of bone—in vertical lines.

I tried to laugh, but it comes out as an awkward chuckle. “What’s there to say that could possibly be interesting to a being who views us as ants?” I tell him, dabbing cotton drenched in disinfectant against his wound.

Vihkir flinches. He squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds before shaking off his pain. “It stings,” he mutters.

I raise a brow, hold his trembling arm still, and add more pressure to the swab. “Of course it does,” I say. “You knew this was coming.”

“Still.” He waves his four fingers around, claws slightly out, and glances at his wrist. “I admit I hoped for a joke hidden within the joke to be present.”

My attention finds his leg, where a shard of rock has pierced his thigh. I cringe. This one’s not going to be easy… Reaching for a cloth I then dip in alcohol, I mumble a weak, “Sorry,” before pulling it out and pressing fabric to his flesh.

Vihkir shifts in his seat. His breaths hitch as he grasps the edges of the stool and tries his best to stay in place.

“Sorry…” I echo. “This one’s a bit deeper, so it’s normal that it hurts more…but, don’t worry. After this, I swear it won’t—"

“Tell me about your planet, human,” Vihkir pants. “Please, at least have the eloquence to take my mind off things. How did you come to be here?”

I think of Earth.

Of Maxwell dragging me around as a child.

Of him convincing me to join the same university so that father would let him go without having to pay for two apartments abroad. “It’s a long story,” I say. “That, and I guess I wanted to get away. Also, Maxwell was very persistent.”

“The one who cannot pronounce my name? And, whatever were you fleeing? Isn’t—ark!”

“Ark?”

“You know! Ark!” he cries. “Ark, as in it hurts!”

“M-my bad. We say ouch in human…” I mumble as I make quick work of wrapping bandages around his thigh.

Vihkir glances to the straps of thin cloth that now slither around his skin. “What’s this?” he asks me.

“You…” I squint. “You don’t have bandages on your planet?”

His attention darts between the thick ribbons of white and me. “Are they for decorative purposes?” A small smile appears across his lips. “If so, I thank you for your welcome.”

“No!” I stifle back a laugh. “No… of course not, they’re… How can I explain…” Leaning against my crutch, I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. “You know when you get hurt and you have to wait for the wounds to close? Well, bandages are there to prevent bacteria from getting in during the time your body needs to recover.”

“Oh!” Vihkir claps; leaving his hands clasped together, he beams with excitement. “I’ve never done that before!” he says. “I can’t wait to see how long it’ll take!”

My jaw drops. “Surely I’ve misheard…but just in case…” I clear my throat. “What is it exactly that you haven’t done before?”

“I’ve never waited for my wounds to heal.”

“How?” I gasp, shifting my weight on a limb now gone, almost tripping on my own foot. “How is that possible?” Even Luenos needs time to heal… Could it be? Does his skin have regenerative properties? If so, we could learn so much from—

“We have slugs.”

I pause.

I furrow my brows.

“Slugs?”

“Slugs,” he echoes. “Bred especially with this purpose in mind! You see, we put them on our wounds after the healers are done with us. Their slime covers just about everything from protection to making the healing process much faster. Truly a remarkable idea from whomever it was that realized they were the future if I do say so myself.”

“Wait. I’m confused. If you have healers, why don’t they just work on your injuries instead?”

“It’s not like they don’t,” he tells me. “But it’s not witchcraft, either. Simply put, they’re merely extremely knowledgeable Strauke when it comes to formulas, and what plants and medicine to use, for whatever pains might be troubling us in the current moment.” Vihkir taps a finger against his chin. “Although…” He smirks. “I suppose to you humans, it probably would look like magic from afar. But, no matter, enough of my useless rambling.” His eyes meet mine. “You haven’t told me yet.” Vihkir leans in, close, and closer, until we are just a breaths-width apart. “What brings you to space, Vance?” he says.

Staring into his dark golden eyes that glare at me with an intensity I’ve never known before, I gasp. “Y-you… You remembered my name.”

Despite his set of shark-like teeth, his smile grows soft. “I’m a very fast learner when I want to be,” he purrs.

My shoulders tense. A nervous chuckle escapes past my lips. Glancing toward the tiled floor, and his tail, I clear my throat. “Are your injuries—I mean… Are you done? Are your injuries done. Um…” I take a deep breath. “A-are they—”

He smiles. “I’m either misunderstanding you, or you are having trouble speaking.” Tilting his head, between two chuckles, Vihkir says: “I sure hope it is the latter.”

“Uh…” I look to my hands, clasped together and sweaty. My fingers fumble against each other. Well this is embarrassing… I think, before parting my lips, and saying: “It’s me, yeah…”

And then I think that I know how it is I understand him, yet… What about him? From where has he learned the words that I speak?

My gaze finds his once more. “Can I ask you something?” I say.

Vihkir takes a step back. He lets a bit of distance grow between us before saying, “Of course,” with a curt bow. “Ask away.”

“How come you can understand me?”

Covering his dark red lips, he snickers. “So, it’s this again then… I see.”

“Sorry. I’m just… I’m very curious,” I say. “You’re all such wonderful creatures. I-I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s okay if you don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Vihkir waves my words away. “You are more than polite with me, dearest Vance.”

His hand slides over mine.

The grip I keep around my crutch tightens.

“What are you feeling right now?” He asks, the heat of his skin bleeding in with my own.

I gulp. “You?”

“But most importantly?”

“Your hand?”

Vihkir rolls his eyes. “Am I the only one, human, feeling how hot you are?” he asks me.

And I want to scream.

I don’t think he knows what he’s doing, but it still makes me want to scream.

…

If taken out of context, this would be so…

So…

Wait.

I frown.

What kind of context is this anyway? And does this even apply here? I mean—

Vihkir pauses. “Vance,” he says, “are you all right?”

“I, uh…” I laugh and shrug his remark off, as if it were nothing, despite it being the reason for the cracks in my voice. “I guess I feel your body heat?” I say.

“And”—he caresses the inside of my wrist—“there is no need to learn a different language, is there? How we both communicate,” Vihkir says, “it is similar to this.”

“Oh.” I nod twice, relieved to find he’s finally pulling away, yet left to question what kind of sentiment this had been in the first place as the beats of my heart slowly settle. “I see.”

“I suppose, had I been that cold-blooded bastard, things might’ve been different.”

My nails dig into my palms as my hands turn to fists. “Why do you insist on calling him that?”

“I’m only stating the truth.” He snickers. “His blood runs cold, and, he is a terrible type of life form. What other than ‘cold-blooded bastard’ could fit such an abomination?”

“He’s done nothing wrong!” I blurt. “And besides, he isn’t as terrible as you say. You’re wrong about him.”

Vihkir turns his back to me. “Is he really not so terrible?” he asks me. “Or is that what he’s chosen to show you?”

“What do you mean?” I say.

A loud knock on the infirmary’s door interrupts us.

I jump and press a hand to my heart. Will I ever get a break? I wonder, my head hung low. “Y-yes?” I decide to say. “What is it?”

“Hey, idiot!” Maxwell shouts. “Your alien friend’s having issues.”