xri

then, one day, he got you to laugh.

he really thought you hated him. he was the person most often at the receiving end of your ire, the target of a spat out insult or vicious eye-roll, but it only took one night to change that. it was something silly and throw-away, a play on words as he had studied a test tube, but there was no denying the noise which came out of you was a chuckle.

his face had lit up as he glanced across the lab. you had tried to hide your smile, the first one he'd ever seen on your face, but you'd failed.

"don't get used to it," you'd mumbled, before going back to work. but Ryland was nothing if not stubborn. he made it his life's work from that point to crack that bristling outer shell you built, and it worked. shared laughs turned to late work nights turned to held hands turned to kisses stolen. as your icy facade melted you became far more pleasant to be around. you even ended up making friends with some of the other scientists who'd flown up with you, and a couple of Eridians too.

yes. cat-like. prickly and vicious at first, now astoundingly affectionate, even if you grumbled about it.

he searches for his cardigan in the lab. he's sure he left it there last night... then he recalls stripping it off to lay over your shoulders when you were shivering. you must have forgotten to give it back. that's fine, he can go and grab it from your room (a place which he has been given access to at any time now, like you have with his). he opens the door and --

oh.

you lie on top of the bedcovers, breathing lightly, lashes flickering as you have some half-felt dream. you've wrapped his cardigan around you like a cocoon. the woollen shoulder is pulled up to your lips and nose, perhaps so you could bury yourself in the familiar, comforting smell of him as you fell asleep. it's impossibly sweet and Ryland's heart aches.

he watches you for a moment, awestruck, lovestruck, until his presence causes you to stir. you peep out at him through half-opened eyes and grumble when you see he's caught you being so soppy.

"get used to it. this is mine now," you warn, but there's a softness in your voice he's come to adore.