I have it baaaad.
I don't know what to do in this situation. Any time I had a thing for someone in the past, I just acted on it. They knew what they were getting into when they dated me, and if a guy didn't like that I took my clothes off for money, that was his problem. I never hid who I was. But the guys I dated in the past were usually not great types. They were party boys, or guys looking to have a good time, not a long time.
I never met anyone like U'dron before. He's kind and caring, putting my needs above his own. Heck, he puts the needs of others above his own, too. I don't think he's had a full meal since he arrived, and Pak and Juth have devoured all the rations he brought with him. The food we catch is plentiful, but I notice that his portions seem to end up with me or with Pak. He worked tirelessly all day to make sure we were comfortable, keeping the fire stoked and building a shelter. I've done what I could to help out, but I'm hobbled by my own stupid lie that I hurt my ankle.
More than that, he looks at me like what I say is important. When I talked to him about why it was important to accept Juth and Pak as people and to think of them as more than outcasts…he listened to me. He weighed my words and considered them.
Me.
It's a heady feeling. Of course, he doesn't realize that I'm just an uneducated girl with questionable choices in life, but I can still enjoy the sensation of being thought of as smart and wise and clever.
The hand-games end, and then we just talk around the fire. Or rather, U'dron talks, because both Pak and Juth don't seem inclined to share anything. U'dron asks Juth how they arrived here, and how they escaped their island, but Juth is stonily silent. So U'dron fills the void, his voice calm and rich and reassuring, and talks of Shadow Cat's journey to the “cold shores” and of meeting us. He talks of the beach games that were called off, and how he dreams of acquiring one of the “magic” knives that need no sharpening.
Juth just grunts at that, as if he doesn't entirely believe such a thing exists.
"We should sleep soon," U'dron comments, glancing over at Pak and Juth. The little boy is drowsing against his father's arm, his mouth slack. Juth looks tired too, his face drawn.
I glance over at U'dron and I can't help but compare his size and strength to Juth. I remember when all of the newcomers first appeared on our beach, they all seemed dazed with everything new in front of them. I remember their wide-eyed looks, their eagerness to play the kissing games, and I remember how wiry their bodies had looked. Maybe it's because of the nature of my business, but I pay attention to people's physical forms. They were fit, sure, ropy with muscle and flat stomachs and tight asses you could bounce a quarter off of. But more than that, I recall seeing far too many ribs, and that when U'dron would bend over to pick something up, I could see the bony knobs of his spine. Their muscles hid just how thin they were, but they were still underweight, and to hear U'dron's stories, it was because what was left of the island wasn't enough to support the three small clans that were left. They'd been starving to death. I look at Juth and I see that same weary hunger in his gaze, that this is the only life he knows, that having a full belly every day and every night is new to him, that he expects mornings where there's nothing to eat, and he expects to go to sleep with an empty stomach.
U'dron's not starving now, I observe. After months of regular meals of more than just lean fish, he's fattened up. What I thought were “nice” muscles before are now mouthwatering. I can no longer see the knobs of his spine when he moves, and his thighs are massive. He's got a build like old-timey wrestlers where he's just a thick slab of muscle and an equally thick neck. Even though he's Shadow Cat clan, he looks like he should be with the bulky Strong Arm clan, size-wise. He's got huge hands, too. Enormous.
I am a big fan of