In terms of romance, compared to humans, all other sentient species are incredibly awkward, stumbling over words, blurting nonsensical sentences, accidentally changing colour, releasing/commenting on pheromones, and/or bluntly stating their piece in a deadpan manner.
Conversely, compared to everyone else the most nervous and awkward of humans is a veritable poet.
She had been trying to speak to the idol of her heart for a Standard Month, now. They came to the same places at that she did. Showed evident likes of similar things.
And was beautiful beyond measure.
And every day, every time. All she could manage was limp, lacklustre things like, “Hi,” or “Cool,” or “How’s it been?” She knew, now, why they called it small talk. Small words. Inconsequential. Ineffective. Invisible.
And she knew the human couldn’t possibly pick up on her own mating displays. They just didn’t register.
Meanwhile, humans everywhere were diving headlong into cross-species relationships with the grace and style known to no other kind.
It took her that entire month to work out what to say. All day to work up the courage to say it. And even then, she stumbled.
“Yah-you make my higher synapses misfire and I want more. Are you ameh..(gulp) amenable?”
The human smiled and changed colour. “Well aren’t you smooth as fuck?”
“K… Kerrit. Is my name. My name is Kerrit.”
A laugh. “You can breathe, Kerrit. I’m Dani. And I am very pleased to become your acquaintance.”
How did they do it?
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