Oren gingerly prodded Nim’s arm, checking the line of breakage before fitting the plastic cast over the broken bone. No one had wanted to stock the infirmary for this trip, they all claimed there was nothing more dangerous than anything they had seen before, but he knew better. Had fought for it until he got his way, something he was thanking God for at this moment. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t bear to look up at those big hazel eyes and see the hurt that lived there. A muscle ticked in his jaw as his mind was swarmed with images of her falling from that tree. That stupid fucking tree he’d dared her to climb. They should’ve been more careful. No one knew what kind of consequences Earth’s biosphere had suffered. The fact there were any living plants at all was a miracle. He’d broken the number one rule. He disrespected the planet and worse, he put Nim in danger. It was reckless…careless.
He busied himself with inserting tiny screws to hold the frame together as Nim studied his hulking form in the cramped space. Eyes roaming over toned arms, broad chest, and then settling on his face; the angry gash just under his hairline was crusting at the edges. She flinched at the sight of it, and he pulled his hands back for a moment before starting again. The lines between his eyebrows pulling together. He looked so out of place here, she thought. His golden skin and dark mess of hair a stark contrast against the fluorescent lights of the ship’s infirmary. It always amazed her that someone so large could be so gentle. Calloused hands barely touched her purpling skin as he tightened the frame of cast, turning her arm over to admire his work as he trailed his fingers across her skin, goosebumps rising at the contact.
“Nim,” his voice cut through her thoughts, and she raised a slender brow, holding her breath and daring him to do something., “you’re staring.” The smug look in his eyes was infuriating. Dark hair curling at the nape of his neck, she wanted to reach out and touch it, run her fingers through the soft locks, curl, and root them there.
“You’re bleeding.” She stated, breathing out through her nose, jaw clenching with effort not to pull him closer and kiss him. Just once she thought, one time and I could be done with this torment. He shrugged, the corner of his lip twitching in amusement.
“Aw, you’re concerned.”
“No…I’m not,” her words came out weaker than she meant them, finished with his task, he braced his arms on either side of her, palms pushing into the cushioned table beneath her. God, she could smell him. The lemon and mint soap mixing with something darker, something that only he seemed to possess. Oren let his eyes rake over her then, just for a moment. He wanted to take it all in, memorize every detail, the closeness of their bodies, the way her eyes begged for him to do something he knew he couldn’t. It had to be her choice. Her terms. He had told her so years ago when they started this cat and mouse game. He would flirt, he would chase, but he would never let himself be caught looking like a fool. Not until she finally admitted to being as unchangeably in love with him as he was with her.
He was prepared to wait. He would always wait. He shifted his body, leaning ever so slightly closer and letting his eyes close for a moment, black lashes leaving butterfly kisses against his olive skin. Again, Nim’s fingers itched to touch him. She gripped the edge of the table tighter. Oren pushed himself away, picking up the remnants of what he’d used to help heal her before pulling out gauze and salve for his own wound.
“Don’t worry Nim, I’m fine.” Gone was the confident teasing tone, replaced with something colder, sharper. Not for the first time her heart squeezed in her chest, wishing nothing more than to be able to give him exactly what he wanted. What he deserved. She could’ve apologized and explained, could’ve told him exactly why she kept him at bay, why she refused to let anyone, especially him love her in that way. Refused to love them back. She couldn’t tell him that people always leave. That the world is full of sad stories and heartbreak and abandonment. She couldn’t tell him any of it. So, she settled instead for something equally cold, sliding off the table and crossing her arms over her chest. A shield. As if she could ever truly hide herself from him. As if he didn’t see right through her like he always had.
“I’m not worried. Never was.” Oren let a short mirthless laugh fall from his lips, brown eyes darkening in the mirror as he tended to himself, eyes flicking to meet her in the reflection.
“Sure. Whatever you say.” He held her stare then, pinning her to the spot. It took everything she had to move her feet, feeling like walking through quicksand as she pushed the airlock button that released her out into the main hall of the ship and away from him. Away from that electric feeling that crawled under her skin whenever he looked at her.
She couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t bare the images that replayed in her mind, that lemon mint smell that clung to her clothes. He was a drug, and the worst kind. The kind that pulled at your morals and everything you stand for. The kind that would turn your world upside down if you didn’t stop it. She knew the truth. Knew that she loved him, and that she could never tell him that, but every day it was getting harder to resist. Harder to push him away. Every day brought them that much closer to being the one thing that could kill the other. That was the most dangerous thing of all.
