Citrine (Deliverance #3)

22. Eli

22

Eli

My first impression of him was that he was a wild animal. Completely untamed, completely ridiculous. It's still true.

However, I can see some of that wildness fading, like the sheen leaving a brand-new car. He doesn't admit it, but I can see he's more curious, more conversational.

I don't know why I told him about my padre . Maybe I was trying to soften him. Maybe I was trying to see if I can find humanity beneath the monster that he is.

But when he said he's never been touched before, it stirs my empathy.

No one should live like that. Besides, I want to see if I can find humanity beneath the monster. Or, whatever you would call it, to bring out a softer side to his violence.

Clearly he isn't completely opposed to change or he would have simply murdered me within moments of finding me.

"Can you come out of the water, Wroahk?"

It's a lot to ask, since I know he needs to stay in the water to survive. However, I can't dive in.

The mere thought of it makes me shiver.

Those things are still lurking beneath the surface. I need to stay somewhere safe. He stares at me with what I can only assume is suspicion and slowly makes his way out of the lake and up to the shore. He settles just a few paces in front of me, his tentacles right at my feet.

The tip of the closest one keeps coming steadily closer, not matching the arrogant look of his features or the way the rest of his body is telling me he doesn't want to be around me.

I finally get a proper look at his torso, now that I'm not shifting terrified looks between his sharp teeth and tentacles that can crush things far larger than I am with little strain.

He's huge, yes, but also sleek and muscular. It's obvious he really does spend his days just swimming around and hunting. His teeth and his hands are built for it and I would imagine he doesn't need too much time hunting down his prey and devouring them, he must just… like it.

A bloodthirsty hobby, but it fits.

Just the thought of that sends shivers down my spine.

"So… if I touch you, do you promise not to hurt me?"

"Nothing is allowed to hurt you. Not even me."

My heart skips a beat. It beats even faster, bringing with it a rush of memories of the last time I felt this way. Do I really feel… protected? By this writhing ball of rage?

Huh. I do.

It's been such a long time, reminding me of my days as a love-struck, empty-headed tween who lived in daydreams, which were made possible by a loving father. I used to imagine a tall, dark and handsome stranger sweeping me off my feet.

Later, when my life turned upside down, I used to dream of a savior, a dark knight that would fight off the monster for me.

Because the shining white knight? Those don't exist.

I abandoned those dreams a long time ago. My relationships never last because I annoy the men I'm dating with my constant talking.

Even when I know they're annoyed, sometimes because I do know they are annoyed, I can't stop talking, eventually running them off. My eyes go back to Wroahk.

"Is there anywhere you'd prefer I didn't touch?"

"No," he replies curtly. "You can't harm me."

"That's not what I…"

I trail off, since I doubt he would understand.

I'm trembling as I step over his sprawled tentacles so I can get closer to where they have him lifted up, looming over me.

He subtly lifts himself higher, and my lips twitch when I realize he must feel threatened.

Unsure.

It makes me feel powerful and helps me work up the courage to slowly stroke the tips of my fingers gently down one of his muscular tentacles, starting with the thicker top, and dipping down until I can't reach any more of it without stooping.

A shiver passes up the tentacle as I stop. A quick glance up at him and I see that his eyes are now locked onto the movement of my hand, following it with the intensity I would expect in someone named killer , but for a very different reason altogether.

I slowly move my hand over to another tentacle, doing the same. Shudders pass through him, but he doesn't pull away. Hardly blinking as he follows the trail of my fingers.

It makes me bolder, and I lift both hands, pleased that I've gained back movement in my broken one, toward his torso.

His eyes are still locked onto my movement as he sinks down. I'm not even sure he's conscious of the movement, mesmerized as he is by something as simple as a light, gentle touch.

It makes my heart hurt for him. Makes me want this to be something special. Maybe even something life-altering.

How did he even survive? Human children die without touch. What kind of childhood did he endure?

I move my hands and hover them over his chest, just in case he wants me to stop. After a moment, he moves himself forward, bringing himself into contact with my hands. I stop worrying about the issue of questionable consent if he doesn't even understand the concept of gentleness. His movement let's me know he likes it, even if I doubt he will ever admit it.

His skin is softer than I expected. Blue on his torso and transitioning to green for his six tentacles.

I move my fingers down his boneless arms, lingering on the shark-like fins jutting out the back of them. His arms feel rigid, but also flexible. Like another form of tentacle, but with a couple of fingers at the end of each.

I move lower as his torso transitions to tentacles, noting the lack of genitalia, but avoiding the area just in case. I look up at him. His shark-like eyes are staring intently at where my hands are, but his face doesn't reveal any emotion.

Just an intense focus.

I keep feeling along the thick muscles of his tentacles, the bumps on the tops and sides, around the suckers on the bottom, letting some catch my hand. I feel a shiver pass through him, and I know I've got him.

I look up with a smirk, but he's still just frozen, with his eyes riveted to my hands. I continue to stroke along him, my ever-present, unexplainable arousal surging. As I continue to sensuously trail my fingers along a tentacle, I get the urge to ask him how it feels.

"Wouldn't you do your part to live together with people if you had access to that?"

He doesn't respond. Just shakes himself, his eyes darting up to mine, looking far less arrogant. Maybe even… lost.

He slips back into the water and disappears. It's getting too dark for me to see if he has stayed around or if monsters… other monsters… lurk instead. In the end, I go back up into the cove and curl up under my tree.

In my bid to find the humanity in him, did I push him too far?

I'll find out soon enough. He doesn't stay away for long.

Evenings are way too dark in this place and my shelter is too revealing for me to harbor any confidence about my own preservation. I suppose, hanging out with him earlier was against my own preservation.

Despite my deep-rooted fear, I tried being friendly. It felt right and I wonder what he's thinking right now.

Laying on my woven-out bed, I laugh to myself. It's so funny, how far I've come. Lightyears, it seems, and now I am trying to explain the concept of kindness to an alien.

The weirdest days of my life, for sure.

I move my arm around a few times and feel nothing besides a slight cramp. The mystery thickens, with no one to provide answers. At first I assumed he knew more than I did, but something tells me that with Wroahk it really is a what you see is what you get situation.

He's from a primitive planet, with a primitive culture. I have far more to teach him than he even realizes.

It's crazy, but I'm looking forward it.

The grass blanket I tried to make for myself with leaves does barely anything to protect my body from the constant wind that flows through this place. I've only just noticed it now, since I have continually collapsed with exhaustion, but the birds don't stop chirping at night.

There's a constant cacophony of noises. I'm grateful, though, since it makes me feel less alone and far from home.

I toss around, staring at the entrance of the cove from where I am. After walking through this place for a while, I've created a trodden path for myself so I can always see my entry and exit, plus the additional bonus of finding myself a suitable hiding place.

Humans really are the destroyers of nature. I've only been here a few days, but I've already altered the natural state and ecosystem of this place.

My thoughts keep me from sleeping right away, but I eventually drift off to thoughts about Wroahk. He's the only one of his kind I've seen since getting here.

I did ask him if this was his home, but he said it wasn't. Still. Are there more under the lake? Do they all look as spectacular as Wroahk?

I feel ridiculous for just thinking about it, but his broad chest and wide shoulders are more impressive than human men. It's like finally seeing a man after flirting and talking to only boys all my life.

And I am the one teaching him. Letting him experience all there is to know about a gentle touch.

I imagine running my hand down his broad chest, caressing the curves of his torso and finding out if he's as big down there as I think he is. Wild fantasies of being curled up and folded by Wroahk fill my head as desire causes warmth in my lower body.

Damn. I lit a fire that I can't douse easily, and sleep tonight will not come easy.

"This is just sick, Eli. I can't believe I'm horny right now."

Worst of all, I can't relieve myself. Besides, survival is way more important than lust. I'm just hoping there are no more surprises.