Anywhere in the story: “It happened, and because it happened, it had to exist whether they liked it or not.”
There were thousands of words to describe Shayde. “Annoying” just happened to be in his top five. She had a uniquely twentieth-century disregard for others’ established preferences and his in particular. And this wasn’t the first time he wished inwardly that he had not been the first responder to her spectacular arrival.
Rael found her. She was his problem because, by the reasoning of Galactic law, he was the one with the most experience.
And today, in typical exuberant enthusiasm for a now-forgotten joy, she had kissed him. On the mouth. In public. It happened, and because it happened, it had to exist whether they liked it or not.
He decided amicable negotiation was better than some painful intervention by the law. Besides, as the expert on her, many people hired him to translate her antiquated phraseology into modern memes. He did not want to lose such a lucrative income stream.
“I crossed a line,” she said. “I know it. I can tell, yeh.”
“Unasked-for physical contact can be viewed as assault,” he informed. “And the intimacy level you displayed…”
“I’m not sorry I kissed ye. I’ll never be sorry I kissed ye.” Almost-black talons raked through smoke-white hair. “What I am sorry for is the unwelcome part. I never wanted tae hurt ye.”
Rael had never known love. He’d shied away from anything resembling romance for so long that it was automatic. Having viewed it from the outside, he imagined it to be an emotionally painful and traumatic process. Literature backed him up, with phenomena like ‘the lightning bolt’ and a minor god armed with arrows. There were phrases like, 'falling for someone’ or 'they’ve been hit hard’.
Pain hurt. Rael preferred to avoid it whenever possible.
And here was someone suffering its throes. Unlikely enough… for him.
Meanwhile, Shayde was babbling. “I’ll keep away from ye if ye want. I’ll find a fan or someone who wants t’ be near me. I get it. Ye don’t like me. I just been hopin’ too bad fer a change…”
Absent Powers… she was crying.
“Don’t… do that?” fell awkwardly out of his mouth. Followed by a fatal collision with, “Please?”
She sniffed, wiping her face on her sleeve. Her eyes swirled between the deep blue of sorrow to the dark red of confusion and back again. “Ye woh?”
“It won’t work that way. I’m the registered expert on you. People like to hire experts. For want of a better term… we’re stuck with each other.”
“Ah don’t want ye tae feel trapped, I’ll–”
He held up a hand to stop her. Someone had to be the voice of reason and it was almost always him. “I never said I was hurt. We need to establish some rules, that’s all.”
“But you know about me an’ rules…”
He did. Rael sighed. “Then think of it as an agreement, then. An establishment of… boundaries.”
“I still like ye a lot,” she said. “Ye cannae change that.”
“Yes,” he allowed. “It’s the means of expression I’d like to… quantify.”
Another face-sleeve scrub. “I guess that means no hugs, then…”
And this was a being who thrived on physical contact, but had a societal stigma against hiring a therapist for such things. “Hugging is… benign enough for your home environment. Or mine. Not a public one.”
“Can I hold yuir hand, then?”
Rael began to regret not getting the lawyers involved. This was going to be a long negotiation.
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