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    Summary

    “There will be a dance fight,” she says. So'lek raises his eyebrows for her to continue. “And I need to put my paint on.”

    She is happy about it. She is excited about it, her eyes shiny, energetic.

    She walks around him, stopping at the counter. She runs her finger over the tabletop, over the dried paint stains, her fingernail scratching the wood, as if she knows he is about to ask a question.

    Her tail sways from time to time, brushing against the side of his thigh, even if she probably doesn't realize it.
    He does.

    He watches her back. The patterns on her skin, the way some of her hair is braided, some is let loose.

    He has to stop staring. And maybe he shouldn't drink after all.

    “And why am I needed here?”

    She scoffs. She laughs, because for her this question is silly. Maybe it's the zangke she drank, maybe it's just her, but she steps closer, smile still there, never going away.

    Something intense lurks in her gaze even behind that fog. But So'lek can't name it. Maybe if he could, it would be easier for him.

    “Because I can't reach my back, skxawng.”

    Series
    Language:
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