Page 68 of Alien Burn
Behind her, Roemary laughed at something a Coalition official had said.
Sereya set both plates down.
She did not want to be introduced to anyone else. She wanted a cup of something that wasn't sweet and a place to sit where she didn't have to recognize the importance of whoever walked past.
And she wanted Dhomhes.
To talk to, she amended, then felt foolish for explaining herself to an empty plate.
She found him near the entrance, listening to an older Kantenan male with heavy horns and a voice that carried. Dhomhes wore dark formal clothing fitted close across his shoulders. His hair had been smoothed back, though one piece had already escaped beside his temple.
She liked that piece of hair.
He looked up.
His expression changed before he could disguise it. Only a little, but enough that the older male followed his gaze and Sereya found herself looking directly at both of them.
She ought to have looked away politely.
Instead, she smiled.
Dhomhes smiled back.
The older male kept talking. Dhomhes returned his attention to him, but his hand moved briefly toward the window bay, a question small enough that she could have ignored it.
She nodded.
It took him several minutes to get free. She used them to acquire two cups of tea and carry them to the window. Then she worried that bringing him a drink made her look like she had been waiting for him.
She had been waiting for him.
She took a large, annoyed sip of her tea.
“Should I be concerned?” he asked.
She lowered the cup. “About what?”
“Whatever that tea has done to offend you.”
“Nothing. Yet.”
“May I?” He indicated the other cup.
“It's for you.”
He took it, his fingers brushing hers. The healing cut across his palm was less angry than it had been. She looked at it a moment too long.
“It's much better,” he said.
“I was checking.”
“You could ask to see it.”
“Wouldn't that be a peculiar thing to ask at a reception?”
“You haven't heard what I've been asked already.”
She laughed, and some of the tightness in her chest eased.
