by Nikki Clarke
“So, how long have you lived in Chicago?”
I look back to find her walking slowly behind me. She holds her hands tightly against the straps of her handbag, hugging it against her side. I turn away from her and focus on listening for any danger.
“Two months.”
“Oh, that’s not long at all. Where did you live before?”
“I had never been to this place before then.”
“You’ve only been in America for two months?”
I nod. Of course I mean the planet, but it’s not a lie. I have stayed in Chicago this entire time.
“Wow, not to sound ignorant, but your English is really good. Did you learn it before you got here?”
“I would never think you are ignorant. In our short time together, I have realized that you are a very clever, insightful, curious woman. But, no, I did not know your language before I arrived.”
I hear the almost imperceptible sound of her stopping, and I turn. For the second time, she gapes at me in astonishment.
“You’re telling me that this conversation we’ve been having is only two months of English speaking for you? Are you some kind of language genius?”
I smile and roll my eyes in imitation of her frequent gesture.
“I am of adequate intelligence, Amina. Where I come from, I am what you would call a linguist. I am used to learning other languages.”
She looks impressed. “What we call a linguist? What do you guys call it?”
“In translation?”
She nods.
“Meshqa’an.”
“Ooh, I love that! It sounds so lovely.”
She laughs, and it’s that full laugh that I love. I smile, too, knowing I have put her at ease and made her happy. We’re still standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I reach out, without thinking, and take her arm to direct her back toward her house. I realize immediately I have touched her again without her permission, but when I go to release her, she shifts, joining our palms.
“It’s okay. You can hold my hand. Besides, if anyone sees us, they’ll think we’re a couple and be too afraid to mess with us. You’re pretty scary looking.”
I look down at her, surprised. I’m a little injured by her perception of me.
“You think I am scary looking?”
She makes that face again that means what I am saying is strange.
“Uh, no, I think you’re gorgeous, but I’m sure you know that you’re fine. And please,” she holds the flat of her hand up when I open my mouth to speak, “don’t act like one of those obviously gorgeous people who pretends like they don’t know they’re gorgeous. It’s annoying to all us average folks. But I just meant that you’re tall as hell and look like you can bench press a grown ass man. That’s usually pretty scary. You definitely look like you can take care of yourself.”
I smile because her assessment of my ability to defend us is correct. Just as her self-assessment of her beauty as average is completely ridiculous.
“I will not be like those people if it annoys you. I am aware that I am an attractive male. Even on my planet, many females have tried to, how do you say, “date” me. I am pleased that you find me attractive. I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You are not average. You are perfect.”
She narrows her eyes and her cheekbones rise in an odd smile.
“Ah, see you almost had me and then you had to go all stalkerish again,” she says as she shakes my hand off. I can better tell now when my lehti is not serious, so I chuckle and hold my hand out for her to take again.
“I will not stalk you unless you ask me to, Amina.”
Her teasing smile widens, and after a moment, she takes my hand and we continue up the street.
Chapter 5
Amina
It takes us no time to reach my apartment. I wish it took longer. I low key tried to walk slow, but Kwarq’s legs are so long that I ended up having to nearly jog to keep up.
I feel crazy even admitting it, but the feeling of walking hand in hand with him is the most natural thing I’ve ever experienced, considering I only met this man an hour ago. Again, I’m hit by the sense that I was meant to know him. In what capacity, I’m not sure yet, but it feels nice and very very right. His large hand covers mine like a glove and provides warmth against the cool, fall air. The grip is strong, but not too tight. An all-consuming sense of security fills me, and I’m stunned by the sheer freedom of the feeling. It makes it hard to let go when we reach my house. Our arms stretch between us as I shuffle my feet at the gate in front of my building.
“Thank you for walking me. That was very sweet.”
He nods.
“Of course. I would have you feel safe walking home.”
I don’t even know what to say to this. I don’t think I’ve ever known someone to so sincerely desire for me to be okay. I nod and wait for him to let me go and leave, but he doesn’t. If anything, his grip tightens a little. The pad of his thumb brushes back and forth across the back of my hand.
“When I see you again, may I speak to you?”
He’s so serious and it’s such a strange thing to ask that I laugh. This Kwarq is kind of quirky.
“You can definitely speak to me if you see me again.”
“When I see you again,” he corrects, and I pull a face, but before I can tease him, he adds, “In a not stalker-ish way, of course.”
I laugh again. I’m having fun. The past hour has been more fun than I’ve had in a long time.
Finally, but what still feels too soon, he drops my hand. It’s a reluctant release, and I can’t lie and say that if he wanted to hold my hand for another hour right in front of my house, I wouldn’t let him.
“Well, I guess I’ll go in now. Thank you again.”
“You do not have to thank me for keeping you safe, Amina. Now go. You are tired.”
I am tired. It hits me as soon as he says it, and I’m stifling a wide yawn while I fish into my purse for my keys. I don’t think twice about turning my back to make use of the sliver of light that shines through the trees above us. In fact, I don’t think any time in my life has felt this safe. I savor it. I may never feel it again, but even as I think this, a part of me feels like at any point, I could turn around and Kwarq would be there, looking unintentionally fierce, warding off anyone who would hurt me.
Finally, I pull out my keys, after holding them in my hand for a few seconds, and unlock the gate. I turn back, and he has not moved. I close the gate, instantly hating the barrier between us. I back away, never letting go of his gaze, and move by memory until I reach my door. I open the door and step into the hallway, but peek back out to see that he’s still there, watching. I wave and he raises his hand back then makes a shooing motion for me to go inside.
I dash up the steps, letting myself into my apartment as fast as I can. I fling my purse to the floor and go straight to the window where I pull back the curtain, hoping he’s still outside.
The yellow of his eyes sparkle up at me. He’s staring right at my window, almost as if he was waiting for me to appear. I smile and wave again, and he does the same. He repeats his shooing motion and brings his hands together to cradle them beneath his head in the universal pantomime for sleep.
I nod and wave again. He raises his hand one last time and stands there until I turn away from the window.
The curtain falls and I step away, but I’m antsy and excited. I want to see him one more time, so I step back, pulling the curtain to the side in hopes of catching him before he leaves.
He’s paused with his back to me. It looks like he’s waiting for something. That sliver of light casts shadows across his back. Even from my second floor window I can see the well-formed muscles beneath his t-shirt. I try to commit each bulge and ripple to memory as I wait for him to leave.
He moves, and it’s like time stands still for the briefest moment before he’s a blur, and I’m only left with the impression of him where he was standing. I scream. The yelp is smothered
as my hand automatically slaps over my mouth.
“Holy shit.”
If I thought my heart was racing before, right now it’s going for the gold. I scramble back into my apartment, suddenly feeling too vulnerable at the window. No person can move that fast. No human, anyway. I try to figure out what I just saw, but my mind seems to have crossed a threshold of reality and it can’t turn back.
He disappeared, and I don’t mean he walked quickly away from my house. He disappeared, and I don’t know what that means. I pace around my apartment trying to make sense of it.
Hours later, I’ve only managed to work myself into a nervous, excited mess, so I finally give up and go through the motions of getting ready for bed. So many crazy ideas are running through my head, each one more insane than the other. Vampire? Alien? I can’t allow myself to believe the first one, no matter how much I love a good supernatural movie. The second one, however, starts to take root as I lay in bed, too nervous to sleep.
I let the idea sink in as I cocoon myself into a pile of blankets. The radiator in my apartment is on full blast, and I’m hot, but I need the security. Each layer of blanket feels like a shield against the boogieman who I foolishly let walk me home. How did I not realize that something was off? In the cloud of my mind, wandering, little things start to come back to me. Things he said during our bus ride that were odd, but passed through my subconscious because their implications were too crazy to consider.
This war thing you humans are so fond of…
I am aware that I am an attractive man. Even on my planet, many females have tried to, how do you say, “date” me.
His face flashes through my mind. All tan, sun-kissed skin and strange features. That silky beard. The yellow eyes piercing so intently into mine. Against my better judgment, a little tingle runs through me when I think of how he pressed his face to mine. When my brain conjures up a memory of his smell, earthy and dewy, my pussy gets a little wet. I squeeze my legs together beneath the blankets as an excited shiver runs through me.
I should be scared. And I won't lie, I’m shook, but I’m also kind of interested. The universe suddenly seems so awesome and vast. I’m struck by a realization that makes everything I’ve ever known seem small and basic. I bolt up in bed, sweating from my fortress of blankets and the thrilling terror of this new understanding. An understanding that is becoming sharp and all too real as each second passes. A hysterical chuckle erupts from my mouth, and I shake my head. I can’t believe it.
“That man is a damn alien.”
Kwarq
I finally step away from the shadows of the tree outside of Amina’s apartment where I’ve been waiting for the past three hours for her to fall asleep. I know she saw me, or saw as much of me as she could when I turned to run from her house. At the speed I was moving, I would have appeared as nothing more than a blur.
It was careless of me to move at that speed in the open. I usually stick to a pace slightly quicker than average humans but still slow enough that it doesn’t cause alarm. I took a chance since it was so late, but unfortunately my lehti does not listen very well to instruction. I should have known she wouldn’t be able to resist one last look. I could hear her heart and it beat with the same anticipation as mine. I no more wanted to leave than she wanted me to.
That’s what drove me to risk running home. I couldn’t wait to reach the cover of my room where I could finally relieve the ache in my cock after having been so close to her for nearly an hour. All I’d been thinking of was tearing off my pants and finally letting myself get as hard as I’ve wanted to be all evening. From the moment she sat next to me in the theater, I’ve been waging a mental war to keep my body from showing just how much I want her.
It was careless. I heard the rustle of the curtains in her apartment and her sharp cry of alarm the moment I took off. Still, I was nearly a half block away when I came to a screeching halt. I doubled back and stood just beneath her window, the sounds of her shock and disbelief ringing through my ears just as the heavy thud of her heart echoed in my chest.
She paced her apartment for a long while, mumbling to herself about vampires and other ridiculous creatures. She laughed quite a bit, almost madly, and I worried for a moment that this small revelation of my true self was too much. I worried that I had broken her. The only reassurance I held on to was the slight edge of excitement I could still detect through her alarm. For a faint moment, I even thought I smelled her arousal, but shortly after, she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
I give her window one last look, listening to her even breaths. When I’m sure she’s asleep, I turn and jog at a quick human pace to my apartment. I’m barely through the door before I yank open the stiff sides of the blue jeans humans love to wear and jerk out my cock. This style of fabric may be popular on earth, but my large, Lyqa frame means I spend much of my time feeling unbearably constricted. It’s worse when Amina is near.
My cock springs heavily out in front of me, throbbing and hard to the point of pain. I don’t waste any time. I take it in hand and give it three, quick pumps, groaning loudly at the relief. My memory recalls that brief scent of Amina’s pussy. I know she was wet. It was the same smell as when she was aroused on the bus. The sweet, tangy scent rests on my tongue and I pump harder, bracing myself on the back of the door. The image of her full, soft lips fills my mind. How she drags the plump bottom lip through her teeth when she’s contemplating something. How she pouts them when she’s doubtful. I imagine her on her knees, taking me deep into her mouth, those lips like little cushions around my cock.
I keep jerking as these images flood my mind. I can’t even consider what it would be like to be inside of her, that’s almost too much to bear. It’s enough to think of her mouth on me, drawing me deeply, warm and soft.
My balls draw up tight, and a thick jet of milky white cum shoots onto the door in front of me. My entire body spasm as my release continues for several long moments. My groans are loud and ragged, almost feral. Something inside of me feels like it’s coming apart, and just as the last stream of semen erupts from my cock, a violent shiver rushes through me, bringing me to my knees.
I hunch over my legs, breathing heavily as I wait for the intensity of my release to pass. When I can finally stand, I see the large puddle of my ejaculation on the floor. The entire lower half of the door is also covered with my semen. I stare, a little alarmed. I’ve taken myself in hand many times since I’ve been on this planet. Sometimes it is the only way I can bear to be in the same room with Amina and not turn into one of the savage human men. I would never do that to her. I would never force my attention. However, I’ve never come this hard. Something is different. It seems the leht has already started preparing me for joining with her.
I get my only towel from the bathroom and wipe up the mess. As I do, I think about how I will address what Amina witnessed when I see her again. A part of me thinks that perhaps I should pretend she was mistaken. It’s late and dark. I was moving so quickly that I could not have been more than a blur to her. Who is to say that what she saw was real? I shake my head, dismissing this idea almost immediately. Lying to her, or making her feel like she’s insane does not sit well with me. If she’s going to be mine, and she is if she will have me, she will have to know what I am at some point.
It occurs to me that perhaps this mistake is a good thing. She was shocked at first, but my lehti is a smart, sensible woman. She had nearly reasoned herself into acceptance of the possibility I am not of this world by the time she went to sleep. I smile a bit when I recall her last words before she finally succumbed to exhaustion.
That man is an alien.
She’s so interested in everything. The more I’m around her, the more pleased I am that my leht is to her. There’s no need to lie. When I see her next, if she asks me what I am again, I won’t pretend to misunderstand what she means. I’ll answer her truthfully. I’ll tell her about the ta’ani maul and my brother’s gift. I’ll tell her how she stole my senses when she p
assed me on the bus, and how my first heart now only beats for her. I will tell her all of these things, and hope that she accepts me, because I will stay on this planet forever if it means that one day she will.
Chapter 6
Kwarq
“No you cannot touch my fucking hair.”
The woman’s voice is a strong alto. She smiles as she makes this unwavering stance. Behind her, man strums the backs of his fingers over the strings of a guitar and nods his head as if to underscore this message.
I know now why my lehti got upset when I felt her curls. I’ve been researching American culture all morning as I wait to meet Amina before she goes to work. I wanted to understand why my touch offended her so, but now I’m just angry.
I click another song and wait the seconds for it to play. A beautiful young woman shakes her head on the screen, her hair is arranged in long braids adorned from root to tip with beads of various shapes and colors. She is also warning others from touching her “crown.” I study the video and pay close attention to the feeling behind the words.
This is sad. It injures me to know that my lehti must move about her world in this constant state of defense. My heart aches with the realization that she is not automatically appreciated for those things that make her unique but shamed for her beauty and made to feel inferior. I stop the song, no longer able to bear the torment of the woman’s voice.
This is the world my lehti lives in. One where she must be wary of the touch of others. One where she must always be suspect of affection. One where that suspicion is not misplaced.
This realization is saddening, but in my research, I have also discovered many things about my lehti’s culture that make me hopeful that she is open to believing my love. I hacked the signal that connects her to this planets satellite communications network. I spent hours browsing her previous searches. Listening to the music she enjoys. Suffering through the movies she has watched over and over again. This research has only solidified my belief that Amina, like she stated, loves love.