better to do. Like organizing the mess downstairs.”
Kalai huffed. “You’d think.”
“You aren’t translating those, are you?” Tauran slid down a little farther, folding one arm behind his head. Outside, the sun was sinking. Since coming upstairs, Kalai had only paused once to light a few lanterns, placing them around the bed. It was atmospheric, almost romantic, if Tauran hadn’t known better. Luckily, there was very little romance about the way Kalai frowned at the dusty old papers around him as if categorizing an old man’s daily life was his sole destiny.
Kalai might not pity him, but that didn’t mean someone as bright and elegant as Kalai would ever be interested in a half-broken alley cat like Tauran. A fun, easy night between the sheets had seemed a possibility until Tauran had somehow managed to insert himself into Kalai’s life. The last thing he wanted was to make Kalai think Tauran was worth keeping around for anything more. Kalai deserved better.
“I don’t know. If they want me to,” Kalai murmured, without raising his gaze from the papers.
Tauran was sure he would have fallen asleep long ago, if it hadn’t been for the way Kalai’s accent added flavor to even the dullest texts. Tauran had noticed it when they first met, but listening to Kalai read gave Tauran a chance to really listen. The way he dragged on the ends of his sentences, and pronounced some words more phonetically than they should be, as if he’d only encountered them written and never spoken.
“Wow. What a thrilling change of pace.” Kalai picked the left-most paper, voice dripping with sarcasm. “On the first day in the first month of winter, he had raisin bread for lunch instead.”
“Kalai?”
“Mhmm?”
“Have you gone out since moving here?”
Finally, Kalai raised his head. “What?”
Tauran turned carefully sideways, letting the egg slide onto the mattress so he could face him. “Outside. Out of this building. You know, fresh air. Scenery. Other people.”
Kalai placed the paper down. “I, uh, got some breakfast at the bakery the other day.”
“I mean something a little farther away than fifty feet down the street,” Tauran pressed.
Kalai met his eyes, a silky lock of black hair dangling over his brow when he tilted his head. He was quiet for a moment, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Why, are you inviting?”
Tauran flushed and pushed the blanket down a little farther. It was really unfair how one person could be such a nerd and so ridiculously charming at the same time. “If I am, will you take a break from work?” He wasn’t asking Kalai out on a date. That definitely wasn’t what this was.
“What about the egg?” Kalai placed a hand on the shell. He had nice hands. Fine-boned and elegant, made for holding pens and quills. “We can’t take her with us.”
“We’ll figure something out. I’m sure she’ll be fine in the box for a few hours.”
“So long as we don’t get in trouble with General Falka. I know how much he cares about the egg’s safety.”
Tauran smirked. “Don’t like breaking the rules?”
“You do?” Kalai turned away from the papers and leaned against the pillows beside Tauran.
“Oh, you should have known me back in the day,” Tauran said. He winced internally. If only he had met Kalai four years ago when he’d been confident and whole and actually a match for someone as gorgeous as Kalai. He huffed. He’d been out whoring so often, Kalai probably wouldn’t have wanted him then, either.
Kalai covered a yawn with the back of his hand. “I sense a story.”
Tauran’s smile softened. “I sense you could use a nap.”
Something shifted over Kalai’s face that Tauran couldn’t decipher. “I really am feeling better,” Kalai said.
Tauran blinked, confused for a moment before he realized what Kalai meant. “I’m sure you are,” he said softly, taking the liberty of placing a hand over Kalai’s on the egg. “You were yawning.”
“Oh!” A pretty blush colored Kalai’s cheeks, drawing attention to the single dark freckle by his eye. “Sorry. I guess I’m too used to people making a fuss.”
Tauran pushed upright, letting his fingers slide against Kalai’s. Kalai’s hand was so much smaller than his. He really should stop before he made a fool of himself. “Yeah?”
“This woman I lived with in Kel Visal. Aunt Iako. Not my real aunt,” Kalai explained. “I never knew my birth family, but I love Iako deeply. She can be a little overbearing at times.” He smiled fondly. “She’s a basket maker. Best in all of Kel Visal.”