Kyro - A.G. Wilde Page 0,24
urge to pull her closer? This...need?
Qrak.
He felt so needy.
“You know who I miss the most on Earth?” She continued when he didn’t answer. “My cat, Nigel. I miss Nigel.”
“Cat?”
“Y’know...well, I guess you don’t know.” She let out a small laugh. “A cat is a small animal. Most are furry. Pointy ears. They have four feet. Tail.” She stopped speaking and smiled suddenly, her eyes glassy while memories he couldn’t see played in her mind.
As Kyro looked at her, he knew he was becoming addicted. He was beginning to live for her touch and her smiles.
Her smile lit up her face so much, he could see his tomorrow in her eyes, and she was how he imagined she’d been back before all this, before she was taken and brought into this unforgiving world.
“Nigel was a calico cat. He was mostly white, but he had those orange and black patches all calico cats have. He even had this one black spot that was shaped like a heart on his side. He was a rescue. I should have been warned. That heart-shaped spot was a representation of his cold, dark heart. Nigel was a selfish asshole.” She chuckled.
“Yet, you miss him?”
“I do.”
“Even with his cold, dark heart?”
She chuckled again. “Yep.”
Her eyes were still glassy as she kept staring ahead. “That’s the thing with cats. I think we love them so much because, unlike humans, they don’t pretend to care. Cat’s don’t give a shit. I think we respect them for that.”
He waited for her to continue.
So qrakking needy.
It was not only her smiles that were killing him. He was getting addicted to the sound of her voice as well. If she allowed him to, he would gladly sit and listen to her speak for ages.
But when a sob shook her shoulders and she wiped her eyes, Kyro turned to face her, moving to the floor in front of her so he could see her face.
“You’re losing minerals from your eyes once more.”
“I just miss Nigel. He was all I had after my parents died. He is all I have and now he is out there all alone and I have nothing. Every day I am reminded I have nothing.”
He knew that feeling all too well.
He, too, lived it every day.
Watching her cry was tearing at him.
“Nigel has a cold, dark heart. That means he is a fighter. He will survive,” he finally said.
Evren wiped her eyes, her gaze focusing on his and as suddenly as her tears had come, she let out a soft laugh.
“You...” She breathed. “Do you really think so?”
No, he did not think so.
Her cat animal would most likely have to find a way to support itself or it would not survive. But he’d already started the lie and it seemed to have stopped her eyes from wasting her body’s minerals.
He wouldn’t point out this Nigel’s peril. He had a feeling she already knew her cat animal was in serious jeopardy unless it was taken hostage by another human.
“I think so.”
She stared at him for a few moments before she wiped her eyes again.
“Thank you, Kyro.”
He nodded, deciding it was time for him to rise from his position on the floor, but her gaze held his. For what felt like the longest of moments, she just looked back at him, her eyes connecting with his in a way that made his chets pulse along his arm.
She began moving forward slowly, and it took Kyro a few seconds to realize what she was doing.
When her gaze fell to his lips, he froze.
Don’t be needy. You should move away.
She paused just an inch away from his face. So close, he could feel the breath from her nose against his skin.
He didn’t know what pushed him. If he imagined a hand behind his head easing him forward, it would have made sense. For he did move forward, on his own accord, despite the voices screaming in his head that what he was doing was dangerous.
He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers.
…
Sweet.
Nest of.
Polvrak.
When he’d read about this human custom, he’d never imagined it would feel this good. It was no wonder humans loved joining mouths.
Her lips were soft, softer than he’d thought they would be, and that softness caught him by surprise, making him want to close his eyes but he dared not do so. He didn’t want to lose one moment of this, lest it be a figment of his imagination.
Before he could stop himself, he was pressing