Aphae Zia'lyr

It was the second such stop made since she’d boarded the Black Medallion a week ago and if she wasn’t mistaken there would likely be another tomorrow. It wasn’t the first time Aphae had taken passage on a trader’s vessel for a long distance run. It was, however, the most interesting to date. It had been only a week and she’d managed to be surprised not once, not twice but thrice over. It turned out the captain was grarian—like herself—which was rather unusual in this part of the galaxy. It hadn’t taken them long to end up sharing meals and catching up on news that only they would likely care about.

The second surprise had been Quin’s status as an unmated male. Most grarians his age would have taken a mate by now, especially if he was making long haul trips across the shipping routes. Male grarians weren’t known for enjoying solitude in their prime. Apparently, he hadn’t even been back to Grare in quite some time. Something about avoiding his mother trying to pair him up with a female.It was something Aphae could understand better than most, her journey meant to do much the same; she wanted to be as far away from Grare as physically possible until her own family calmed down after she refused the third male they’d presented her with. What better place to escape to than the other side of known space?

The third? Well, she was pretty sure that had been something of a surprise to them both. They’d shared a little bit of local ale at the first port a few days ago unaware that it was spiked with barb, the galaxy’s favourite controlled substance. It had rendered tongues loose and inhibitions looser. Quin had hinted at interest, the not-so-subtle luminescence shimmering under his skin and she? Well, Aphae hadn’t felt inclined to lie about her own. They’d ended up in his bunk in a tangle of limbs and giggles and speckles of glowing pleasure. Given the barb, that part wasn’t entirely surprising. Grarians loved to touch and it was something of a feat to turn down an opportunity to enjoy each other but the real surprise had been his return at her door the following evening. Sober. And glowing.

Today she found herself sitting in the small common room, contemplating the unexpected turn of events as Quin did—whatever it was that he did on these stops. There was a data pad on the table in front of her, the screen still displaying page two hundred ninety-eight of eight hundred from the Sacred Texts Of Ventro Five, volume three.

She hadn’t scrolled the page in nearly two hours.

Aphae stared off into space, lost in her own thoughts. Her mind was busy reliving last night, the direction of her thoughts causing the dappling on her crests to alternate between a matte, muted magenta and the soft glow of fuchsia that indicated pleasure of some kind. It was a struggle to keep her thoughts on track. Impossible, really. She was far too giddy and far too lost in daydreams to make any headway on the secrets of Ventro Five. A little voice in the back of her mind clicked its tongue and reminded her that she knew exactly why her focus was so scattered.

She liked him.

A lot.