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~*~
A cloud of fragrant steam billowed into the staff dormitory. Amiya emerged with a towel around her shoulders, carefully pulling her ears out of their waterproof plastic shower sleeves. She yawned and stretched, ignoring the telltale electronic glow of a computer screen peeking out from under Kal’tsit’s door, and slipped into her room. She yawned and stretched, her arms over her head, before flopping face-down onto her bed with a satisfied sigh.
Just another evening aboard Rhodes Island, mobile outpost, and Amiya was winding down and getting comfy. Or at least, as comfortable as you could get in a place like this. So much of Rhodes Island was hard floors, unpainted walls, and cold, sterile lighting. Save for the medical wing and the rare occasion when the Doctor spontaneously decides to renovate the third floor staff dorms into a recreation of a traditional Lungmen noodle bar, “comfort” was something Rhodes Island had in short supply.
It wasn’t totally absent, however. It just needed a few homey touches. A few potted plants, a few throw pillows, a nice, fluffy quilt. Amiya took pride in how much warmer she could make her room with just a little redecorating. Figuratively, of course. Outside the engineering sector, the ship never got much warmer than a brisk autumn day. That was why everyone wore so many layers.
Amiya sprawled out on her bed in her sky blue pajamas, savoring the feeling of freshly laundered sheets. She reached over to her nightstand and clicked off her lamp.
Her lamp’s warm orange radiance was replaced by the dim, electric blue glow of the lumen strips set into the floors and the walls at head height. Recessed, chemical lighting for if the ship ever lost power, to help the staff find their way in the dark.
It was amazing how different the room looked in the cool blue dark. It felt… colder, somehow. Sinister and unfriendly. Shadows flickered across the ceiling. Something moved out of the corner of Amiya’s eye.
In a flash, Amiya was on her feet, palm out, her rings glinting in the dark.
“Come out!” she demanded.
A hooded figure moved in the shadows.
“...It’s me,” they murmured.
Amiya exhaled, the tension leaving her shoulders. She reached behind her and clicked on her lamp. The intruder blinked, flinching away from the light.
“...Red,” Amiya said patiently. “What are you doing here?”
Red shrugged, glancing at the floor. Her hands were guiltily stuffed in her coat pockets.
“Guard detail,” she said. “Doctor’s orders.”
Amiya’s expression softened. Red’s explanation didn’t quite hold up. Amiya wore her focus rings to bed, so she was never entirely defenseless, and the staff dorms were deep inside Rhodes Island’s armored hull, well out of reach of any would-be assassins. Kal’tsit, jaded as she was, wasn’t
that
paranoid.
But “I had a bad dream and don’t want to be alone tonight”, by comparison, just seemed so… juvenile.
“Come here,” Amiya said gently, before adding, dryly, “...no boots.”
Red’s boots thudded onto the deck plating. She took a seat at the foot of Amiya’s bed, her legs tucked under her petite form. Her tail swished behind her, restless. Amiya scooted closer, until their knees were touching. She leaned in, searching Red’s eyes.
“...Was it another nightmare?” Amiya asked, tender.
Red met her eyes. She nodded, glum. “...Yes. Or… a memory. I can’t always tell which.”
Amiya grit her teeth as a shock of white hair and rounded Ursus ears flashed across her mind’s eye. She clenched her fists. She took a deep breath, and let it out slow, slowly relaxing her fingers as she did.
Nightmares. Memories. The line between the two got murkier and murkier every day.
Amiya laid her hand, palm up, on Red’s knee. Red took it, and laced their fingers together with a squeeze.
“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Amiya offered.
Red nodded, mute. Amiya squeezed her hand.
“Alright, well, if you’re staying, you should at least get comfy,” Amiya smiled. “Take off your gear.”
Red stared at her as if she’d just asked her to jump off a cliff. Reflexively, she reached into her coat, reaching for the familiar grip of one of her many knives.
“...But I need it,” Red protested.
“You’re safe here,” Amiya said, brushing a thumb over Red’s knuckles, “I promise.”
Red met her eyes for a long moment. Eventually, Red shimmied out of her coat, uncoupling the equipment she had hanging around her neck. She set her gas mask and her goggles on Amiya’s nightstand and tossed her coat aside. It landed over the back of Amiya’s armchair with a clatter of concealed knives.
It was amazing how different Red looked without her gear. With her hood up, mask and goggles on, knives between her fingers, she truly lived up to her nickname-- the Red Reaper, terror of the battlefield. Amiya had long admired the strength and confidence with which Red carried herself on the battlefield, and hated that they lived in a world where such strength was necessary.
Sitting on her bed, hand in hand, Amiya saw what Red was truly like under the hood. She wasn’t a killer. She was just a girl, no more than a year or two older than Amiya herself.
That’s what this world does to us,
Amiya realized.
We’re all just frightened children, putting on masks to survive.
Despite that sobering thought, when Amiya glanced up, she couldn’t help but snort.
“What?” Red asked, defensive.
“Your, um,” Amiya smiled, “your ear’s inside out.”
Red whined in dismay, reaching for her head.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” Amiya said, reaching out. “There we go.”
It was such a little thing. Just a push of Amiya’s thumb against her ear to get it right-side-out again, the slightest brush of Amiya’s hand against her scalp as she pulled away. Even that was enough to make Red go stock still, her breath catching in her throat.
Red’s hand darted out, her slim fingers coiling around Amiya’s wrist.
Amiya blinked. “...Um.”
“Can you…” Red began, not quite able to look Amiya in the eye. “...can you do that again?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Amiya said.
She reached up, gently laying a hand on Red’s head. She smoothed her hair against her scalp, before sliding over. Her fingers brushed against the base of Red’s ears, and they twitched in response.
“Is this okay?” Amiya whispered. Red nodded, eager.
Amiya carefully traced the outline of Red’s ears with her fingertips, marveling at the difference in texture between her hair and her fur. She gently took Red’s ears between her fingers, feeling them flex in her grasp. She trailed her fingers through Red’s hair, before gently digging her fingernails into her scalp.
Red whined, low in her throat. She nuzzled Amiya’s hand, leaning into her fingers, yearning for her touch.
Amiya fought not to coo at the sight. How anyone could believe this girl was a cold-blooded killer was absolutely baffling. Amiya combed her fingers through Red’s silver hair, warmth radiating from every touch. While she scratched Red’s ears, Amiya reached up with her free hand, gently cupping Red’s cheek.
Red whined again, a whimper that threatened to become a low howl. This was… new. This wasn’t the first time she’d visited Amiya to keep the nightmares away, but she’d never… she’d never thought to ask her to…
Well… pet her.
And now that she was, there was no turning back.
Red leaned forward, her chin in Amiya’s hands, until she was almost falling onto her lap. Until, finally, she did-- she leaned so far forward in search of Amiya’s palm to nuzzle against that she wound up toppling over, falling into Amiya’s embrace.
The warmth was… intoxicating. She felt Amiya’s arms around her shoulders, felt her legs wrap around her waist. She felt her tail wagging out of control, rhythmically thumping against Amiya’s knees. She burrowed her face into Amiya’s chest, her stomach, nuzzling fiercely, feeling Amiya’s laughter rumble through her ribs.
Euphoria, pure and blinding, flooded Red’s limbs. She lifted her head, meeting Amiya’s ocean-blue eyes.
Without thinking, Red darted forward and pulled her into a kiss.
The whole world became warmth and light and their fingers laced tight together, linked in a promise. But then…
Red’s brain abruptly caught up to her body. She shoved herself back up onto her arms, meeting Amiya’s eyes below her. Confusion crinkled her brows.
Red blinked, puzzled. “...Sorry.”
“No, it’s… okay,” Amiya murmured.
It didn’t feel like a normal kiss. Not that either of them had anything to compare it to, mind. But it didn’t feel wrong. It wasn’t an impassioned kiss between lovers. It was something… warm. Comforting. Right. Like two halves reunited. Like coming home.
Amiya beckoned Red back into her arms. She held her close, tenderly pressing her forehead against hers.
“I love you,” Amiya whispered.
And in a strange moment of startling clarity, she knew three things to be true: that this was the first time Red had ever heard those words spoken aloud; that Amiya meant what she said, with all her heart; and that Amiya was willing to spend the rest of her life making sure Red never, ever forgot it.
Red shuddered. She nuzzled into Amiya’s throat, her tail swishing.
“...I don’t understand,” she murmured.
“You will,” Amiya said. “I promise.”
Red spent many more nights in Amiya’s room after that.
During the day, the young leader of Rhodes Island knew that her partner and bodyguard was never more than a knife throw away. Wherever Amiya went, Red followed, closer than Amiya’s own shadow. And when they held hands, or pulled each other aside to talk in private, so close their foreheads were touching, people knew. Nobody could get that close to Red, physically or emotionally, except Amiya. And if any would-be assassins wanted to come after Amiya, whether during the day or in her sleep, they’d have to get through Red first.
There were still plenty of challenges to overcome in their waking hours, of course.
But ever since that night, there were no more nightmares.
And they were never alone.
~*~