Citrine (Deliverance #3)

28. Wroahk

28

Wroahk

I returned when she woke, pleased by the look in her eye when she saw me.

She never stops speaking. Even though her words fall like echoes, they are like a never-ending stream flowing relentlessly. I am sure the reason the fish have all disappeared is because of how loud she is.

Noise attracts predators and the reason this prey is still alive is because of me. This does nothing to bother her, as she is still speaking. She pauses sometimes to catch her breath and stares at me for a while before continuing. It is strange to see someone so dedicated to the act of conversation.

Although I agreed to listen to her, the cost for her touch seems high when she hasn't done so. She looks more content with my presence and the occasional brushes she does against my skin.

It feels like I'm being taken advantage of, even though she is someone who cannot harm me even if she tried. Her docility and mercy are just some of the many reasons I consider her species to be ridiculous. The more she talks, the more out of place I feel. This place is already so strange, but her words add a layer of alienation, filling my head with more thoughts and even stranger emotions.

"Honestly, I have never seen trees this big! We had some big trees back on earth, but I feel like I can use some of the leaves from these trees as a blanket ! A blanket ! Can you just believe how ludicrous that is? Honestly, not just the size of the trees is shocking, but the fact that I can breathe so comfortably here is, too. Trees back home assist in aerobic respiration using oxygen , but it's hard to even tell if what I'm breathing in is oxygen . Um, oxygen is an element … like a basic unit of all living beings. We're made up of things like that, from the biggest whales to the tiniest bugs . Speaking of bugs , the bugs here are colorful, too…"

Things like that.

When she speaks, it's hard to tell what she's talking about, especially when she easily switches topics in the same breath, moistening her lips with fluid from inside her mouth. My eyes focus on her lips as she does that, my throat feeling strangely dry.

The sparkle of excitement grates on me and my mind wanders to how good her moist lips will taste if I take a bite out of them. My eyes wander down to her exposed, fair neck and my throat feels even dryer as my body shakes with an urge that is not quite hunger.

Not a bite out of them. Just a small bite and a long taste.

"Wroahk? Are you good?"

That ridiculous name.

I don't know why she keeps calling me that, even though it sounds nothing like what I keep telling her. I respond to her with a strangled grunt and deviate my gaze from her body. My mating tentacles feel the urge stronger than the rest of my body and my eyes start to wander again, this time to the place below her torso as my interest waxes stronger.

"You're not saying anything, even though you can speak better than a few grunts and growls."

"I do not have the capacity to speak endlessly like you," I reply in clipped clicks, taking my eyes away.

She frowns and leans closer. "That is rather rude ."

I don't know about rude , but I know I am right.

I don't respond to her, and she keeps on talking. She's chiding me, but her grasper hasn't made its way to my body. Even though that's why I'm waiting here, she refuses to touch me.

Her graspers are just a tentacle's length away, yet she's being careful with her actions, strangely stopping short of just brushing against me.

She's driving me mad.

I have an intense urge to just grab her grasper and force her to touch me. I want to relish yet again in the soft and serene feeling I felt when she touched me for the first time. Even though it affects my mating tentacles so much, I want to feel her kind touch.

I crave it. I want it now.

I tilt my head to the side. "Is there more than just kind hands ?"

She laughs. "Oh, a lot more. Even better things. But that's not something I'm offering… right now," she says, slapping her grasper over her mouth like she is trying to keep more words from escaping.

It pulls my attention sharp to her, since she seems to prefer if they flow as fast as possible.

Right now, she said. So maybe in the future.

Yet, as I watch this soft, small being, I remember her words. If I want her kind touch, it cannot be taken by force. It must be given freely, which I find ridiculous.

Everything worth having is taken with force. Everything.

But, no, the one thing I crave is something I cannot have if I use my strength. It disturbs me, but the consequences of losing something fluttering so close to me is more terrifying. I watch her face soften as the subject of the conversation changes again.

"My padre was one of the most upright gentlemen I knew. He was soft and kind , even when he didn't need to be. He always says a female needs to be treated like a princess ." She looks happy, her voice trailing off as she immerses herself in yet another memory.

Suddenly I think I understand. It isn't about the number of her words, it is about something inside of her ready to give that kindness .

"I remember one time I was talking about a book I read to him and was telling him about how much I liked the author . He found out about a book signing and moved mountains, rearranging his entire work schedule to be able to take me to that book signing . It was also on the weekend and as a child, I didn't realize it earlier, but he was exhausted from working all week and still took the time to drive me there. He often told me he was proud of me and…" her voice breaks as her eyes softens even more.

"…I had done nothing worthy, yet he was proud of me. He gave anything and everything just to make me happy."

I don't get it. If this man is her seed bearer, it makes no logical sense that he that he would do those things. The males of my species work harder to keep their own lives and provide for themselves rather than keep around something as useless as an offspring.

Perhaps the reason her species is so weak is because they spend too much time on useless things.

She seems to have gotten everything she wanted from this padre of hers. That's the only thing I can understand from her relentless rambling.

If that is the case, then to get her kind hands I need to give her anything she wants.

It doesn't seem like that's all there is to it, though.

And I can't accept that, anyway. There might be some other possibility to the give and take thing, like an acceptable amount of taking something and the limits of taking too much.

Like how she should really use her grasper to touch me instead of flailing them around and talking about stupid things.

"Back on my home planet , parents had to discipline their children , or they were seen as bad parents . My padre didn't do it so much, but that female was intent on trying to look like a strict parent since my padre was not. They usually argued when it came to me, but more so when it came to my interests. I remember getting into horror novels and they got into a huge fight since padre was willing to let me buy gory novels and she would refuse lest people judged her in public. I was really into horror novels then even though I couldn't stand horror movies …"

She's going on again about something I can't understand.

Her people seem so complex despite being so weak. They have a curiosity for the world around them that isn't natural and I assume must share their findings in conversations with one another.

If I find a stable place to hunt and live, I will guard that place with my life. A companion is not a need of mine, but for her species, it seems to be one. Which means I need to provide that for her.

It makes my stomach roil.

I am not familiar with thinking so deeply. Until being captured and meeting this female, I had limited curiosity for the world. Well, now that I have been plucked out of my favorite hunting spot, I suppose I have a great deal of curiosity and rage toward the ones who did it.

And now I need to figure out this female.

I am going to stop thinking so deeply about it for now. It hurts my brain and confuses my body.

The simple life of just swimming around and hunting doesn't seem so bad compared to endlessly thinking and talking about unspecified things for hours. Instead of that, I'm going to do what I want to do.

Luckily I stop myself in time. " Kind hands ?"

She stops talking, then holds her arms out.

Finally.

I surge up to the bank and drag myself closer to her, wrapping my tentacles around her. Sure, she says I cannot take what I want forcibly, but I have listened to enough of her drivel. The warmth and elasticity of her body overwhelming me, causing a feeling I don't have a word for. It is much better than the feeling I got relaxing in my old favorite resting spot after a full day of hunting.

"Wroahk! What are you doing? I told you that you can't just do that. Alright, fine. I see the miscommunication. I said yes."

She tries to shake me off, but it feels like mere tickles to me. I can listen to whatever she says for hours as long as she's also using her kind hands .

I hold her tight in the grip of my tentacles, but don't use my graspers and keep my mating tentacles firmly tucked under me.

She can talk and touch at the same time.

"I listened to you talk like an insane person for a long time."

"How rude ," she huffs.

I find the harmless gesture comforting.

She continues berating me, but I remain in the same position. She squirms a few times in her position, trying to make herself comfortable and somehow brushing against the tentacles I tried so hard to tuck away from her.

She mumbles some words under her breath and goes silent for a while, staying very still. I can't tell why, but I savor the silence.

In her moment of silence, I can appreciate my position. The feel of her wrapped up tight isn't quite as thrilling as her hands on me, but it comes with its own pleasure.

She growls out a breath. "Fine."

She moves her grasper and starts touching the parts of my graspers and tentacles she can reach. Each touch feels like I'm in a riptide, and she seems to learn where to touch from the way my body reacts.

Perhaps the curiosity of her species is useful after all.

"I swear, it won't hurt for you to be a gentleman . I understand being the strong and silent type, but you won't do yourself any favors if you keep being so rude . Don't your people learn some form of respect ? Do you even have the concept of etiquette ? No, I doubt you would. After all, you're a brute who…"

My listening drums have become numb from listening to her as they tune out her words. Her graspers never stop moving, which is impressive. Her fingers move along the ridges of my suckers, finding sensitive spots I don't even know I have.

She's very skilled, I can tell, but I don't feel like saying it. Talking will be interpreted as engaging in conversation and I don't want that.

"It's such an interesting feeling. I wonder if this is why some people want to keep an octopus as a pet . Would it work as a pet ? I've eaten one before, but I don't know much about them. Would they be a close relative of yours by chance? Of course not. You're not even from the same planet ."

Her graspers move further below, and the sensations travel with them. My mating tentacles want to burst out of their hiding place, but I contain my urges.

They are urges I shouldn't even be having, but somehow, this female manages to bring out the best and worst in me. It is an unfair comparison if I place her against the other females I have met because there are none I can compare her to.

None can touch me as kindly as she does.