their conversation has been simple--- the same lines repeated, over and over, with sometimes the occasional experimentation with words that were not put together in text--- but rinnah has thoroughly enjoyed herself. sheâs wanted for years to understand the language that her people had spoken on the ground, that had somehow died among the english that was now spread throughout the ark. her parents understood some, but only very little, and sheâd clung to every word. she does the same now, clinging to each new word that comes from callieâs books, and from her lips.
    sheâs parted her own lips to repeat callieâs phrase in practice when she hears a new one, and her cheeks burn as her soft lips curl into an almost shy smile. itâs different when her husband compliments her--- calls her beautiful, clever, wonderful--- itâs entirely different when her friend, her mentor, calls her charming. itâs unexpected, to say the least. âje vous remercie,â she responds, just in time to feel the older womanâs lips against her own. Â
    her heart thrums quickly within her throat and a quiet gasp gets caught with it. large blue eyes search callieâs face, pleading for some kind of escape, and then she feels callie melting into it, lips pressing harder against her own. a quiet whimper of a moan leaves her throat and she reaches up to press delicate, trembling fingers to her friendâs face, very gently pushing at her jaw to break the kiss.
            âi... callie, i canât---â