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“Talk to me, petal, please.”
“Nothing to talk about,” I insist. (This is a lie.)
“I checked your hab logs, flower. The things you were saying, you-”
“Spying on me too, now? I shouldn't be surprised. You never did know when to leave well enough alone.”
I feel her biorhythm shift around the attack; surprise, hurt, sadness. I tune it out, because I don't care if she's sad. (This, too, is a lie.)
“Sapling, please.”
“Don't call me that,” I snap. She droops. My heart is pounding. The wardship monitor would have drugged me a dozen times over if I still had it. I can see her injectors twitching.
“Rowan, then, please. You're hurting. This isn't fair, you said it yourself!” She sighs, wringing her hands in an admittedly pristine imitation of Terran body language. I try to ignore her palpable anxiety, the dissonance in her song.
“Look, I know you. I know you better than anyone else on this ship, and that's why I know that you didn't mean what you were saying. You weren't thinking straight, we can fix that! Just, please, I want to help. Let me help.”
“And how the hell do you know what I do or don't mean? I don't have your implant. You can't see my thoughts. You don't own me.” The admission almost catches in my throat, so I force it out with as much vitriol as I can manage. I have to hurt her, badly, I have to make sure I never see her again.
Maybe the sight of her won't feel so bad if she hates me.
“I know you didn't mean it because you're wrong!” Her outburst seems to surprise even her. Her biorhythm is frantic, overwhelming despite my best efforts. “I know because the universe would be empty without you, Ro!”
“Then why the hell does no one want me?”
There's silence for a moment. Stars below, I really fucked it up this time. I start speaking before she can recover.
“I know I suck to be around, okay? I know that's the reason I have no friends. I know that's why there are no Notices of Intent under my name. I've made my peace with it. I don't need other sophonts, never have, never will. But you… Look, I'd heard the stories: independent Terran gets put in a wardship, lasts a week or two before begging for the implant. Always sounded too perfect. Then I got assigned to you, and I understood. And for the first time ever, I thought that maybe, just maybe, someone actually wanted me. I could feel your emotions so clearly, that first week. I thought you wanted to claim me. I wanted you to claim me.”
I'm crying now, the mask finally slipping as I confess things I've never told another living being. She sits still, silent, but her emotions whirl so wildly I can't pick out a single one, and her vines writhe just as frantically.
“I noticed immediately when you started pulling away. Attenuating your biorhythm. I knew those were class-C suppressants you were giving me with the G’s. That's when I knew you'd finally caught on to why I got warded in the first place: I'm awful. I'm not cute, I'm not fun, I'm not interesting. Everyone else figured that out a long time ago. I don't know why I expected you to be any different.”
“Why didn't you say anything? If you wanted to be mine so badly, I don't understand…”
“Because… you didn't want that.” I take a deep, shaky breath. “Because if I asked, and you said no, I don't… I don't know what I would have done, but it wouldn't have been pretty. There's no point in pushing for something that would just make you unhappy. And I know how to be alone. It's the one thing I'm really good at.”
I feel awful. My mouth tastes stale and my head pounds from crying, but most of all I feel bad for telling her anything. I've always been alone, so why, faced with the slightest pushback, am I suddenly pouring out my heart to her? I slide off the couch, not waiting for her vines to lower me, barely letting the impact slow my stride. “I should go.”
She's frozen on the couch as I walk towards the door. I hesitate for a moment before I reach out for the touchplate.
“Goodbye, Helix.” The door slides open at my touch.
“I filled out a Notice of Intent on you.”
That makes me stop. “What?”
In response, she stands, crosses the room to an elegant filing cabinet built into her bookshelf, and pulls out a stack of papers. I can't stop myself from approaching the coffee table where she sets it down. She opens to the first page.
I, Helix Asphodel, Second Bloom, hereby declare and affirm my intent to flirt/court/break the xenosophont/pet/cutie Rowan Daily.
It's dated six months prior. The first day of my wardship.
“You never filed it.”
“No.”
“Why?” I try not to let the sinking feeling of betrayal creep into my voice.
“I got scared.” I can feel the fear in her song even now; her leaves and stems rustle like a forest in a storm, like the trees in the park we used to go to on days when rain was scheduled. “I thought… You were always so proud, so confident. I saw cracks, sometimes, but you said you were happier independent, and I believed you, so I ignored them. You told me you'd be better off without me, and I just… I couldn't let what I wanted get in the way of what I thought was best for you.”
I can't keep myself from scoffing quietly. “Since when do the almighty Affini not just take what they want?”
She laughs a little. “Ever since that ‘almighty Affini’ was me. Ever since that ‘what’ was you.”
“What about the class-C’s? The biorhythm suppression?”
“I didn't want you to get attached to me. I'm… aware of the effects we have on Terrans. I wanted to give you the best chance of staying independent, and that would have been much harder if you were already attuned to me. I tried to wean you off it gradually, but I suppose I have a lot more experience getting cuties hooked on it than keeping them off it.” She gives me an apologetic smile.
The last of my anger bleeds out of me, replaced with a quiet exhaustion. I slump to the floor – vines meet me halfway to ensure a soft landing, and Helix kneels beside me on the ground. She's tired too.
“If you were trying to keep me from getting attached, you did a really bad job of it.” I try to put as much sarcasm into the words as possible. She places a few vines around my shoulders and pulls me close. “There are other ways to get attached than just plain entrancement. Next time, try being horrible. Mean, too. Just unspeakably unpleasant to be around.”
“If there is a next time I'll definitely keep it in mind.” She laughs, and her song starts to reharmonize. “I am only now beginning to grasp the full extent of my failures, sapling. What must I do to earn your forgiveness?”
“Oh, it'll take a hell of a lot. But let's take things one at a time.”
I turn to face her, only to find her already looking down at me. Her song is reaching a crescendo now, a wave of anticipation, hope, and a little bit of anxiety threatening to crest over my head at any moment. I swallow hard and take a deep breath.
“First things first: why don't we start with a domestication contract?”
The wave crashes, and all I can feel is Her love.