#pallia

“Enough of what?”

Even knowing the voice instantly to be the chirpy lilt of his hivemate, Pallia, her sudden entrance into the mainblock still made his heart skip a beat. She plopped down on the seat next to him of the black couch, peering over half-moon glasses to grimace at the book in his hand. She didn’t have to say anything to exude the level of judgement he felt from her.

“You, lover of subjuggalator documentaries, cannot possibly be judging me for reading something bad,” he said lightly.

“Oh come on, Dontoc there’s bad and then there’s this.” She glanced down at the book again. “What’s it even about anyway?”

He shook his head with a sigh, letting the finger holding his spot slip out of the book. “Certainly you could wager a guess.”

“Oh a puzzle?” Pallia shifted around in her seat, turning to face him with crossed legs. She was dressed for ultimate relaxation in a pair of sweats and loose sweatshirt, with her hair pulled up in an unusually well-kept bun thanks to a few well-placed pencils. She contrasted him, tall and fully dressed in a three piece suit with his perpetually unkempt short hair, quite perfectly. Her teal eyes sparkled with mirth from behind the glasses. “Do I get any hints?”

He smirked playfully. “You have not somehow ingested enough bad media to hazard a proper guess?”

“Not for romance.” Pallia crossed her arms and huffed. “God Dontoc, I only have one quadrant. Do I really strike you as the romantic type?”

Did Pallia strike him as the romantic type? Dontoc wasn’t actually sure. With her only having one quadrant, he couldn’t accurately say for sure if such were true, or if he simply never had the chance to see her interact with a quadrant proper. She might not be the same affectionate, teasing troll who went out of her way to make sure he felt included around a quadrant. His doubt might just be his own long-time, latent flush crush on her causing him to project.

After all, he did have a flush crush on her. That much was certain. A sweep or two ago, he might have tried to deny to himself, but by now there was no other way to explain the way being around her made his whole body feel ten pounds lighter and pointlessly giddy at any little thing. His other friendships, even his actual matespritship, failed to elicit similar reactions. The closest was his moirail, Valeba, who always always brought serenity with her presence, but even that wasn’t this bizarre effervescence that floated him away from his anxieties. Not that he’d ever tell Pallia any of this. Managing to get a best friend whom he adored, despite their caste difference, was more than acceptable. To ask anything more was selfish.

“You simply strike me as the type to have read enough bad media, regardless of genre, to take some sort of guess,” he said. “Or have I somehow misread that one and you happen to unironically enjoy ‘Subjuggalating Mentor to Highbloods is Put Under Great Scrutiny after Explaining to Bluebloods the Importance of the Mirthful Messiahs Upon Inquisition. When the Bigoted Seadwelling Upper Staff Wish to Cull Her, She Goes to the Courtblock to Defend Faith In Schoolfeeding, Alongside a Plucky Tealblood Looking for His Big Break’?”

She snorted. “Please. I don’t think a single person unironically enjoys that. How can anything fall face first into every stereotype while acting like it doesn’t? There’s never been a more--” she paused to slap her forehead with an amused groan “--oh of course! The book’s hemoist isn’t it?”

Dontoc grinned. How could he not? “Oh, extremely. The highblood is the dominant one in the relationship, and he is honestly worse than you would expect.”

“Tall, well dressed and…” she tapped her finger on her arm in thought… “indigo? That strength is attractive to a lot of trolls.”

“You are not far off. Think higher.” He gestured upward toward his own twitching fins. “Much higher.”

“Violet? Really?” She looked at the cover again doubtfully. “But this looks like some kind of rich businessman type of story. I thought the violet caste normally keeps to themselves.”

“Oh they do. This book bypassed such a problem by saying he simply moved onto land when he was very young, shortly after his lusus was culled by extreme hemorebels, to get ‘more out of life’. Or perhaps it was not. Honestly, the backstory was brushed aside in favor of having the two stare blankly at each other.”

Pallia raised her eyebrows. “Is the protagonist’s backstory any clearer or is it just as bad?”

Dontoc shrugged helplessly. “If I tell you her backstory, I assure you it will give away her caste immediat--”

“Oh, so she’s a tealblood. Probably ten sweeps old, if they’re playing off twenty sweeps as young somehow. Tiny waif of a troll too, I bet.”

Well. That happened. Dontoc blinked owlishly at her assessment. Every single piece was completely true, down to the size of the tealblood. There’s no way she read the book. He would’ve seen it somewhere. “Um...how...how did…”

“You said if you tell me the caste, it gives it away. Teals and jades are the most rigid in jobs, but jadeblood romance is mostly always two women, while this love interest is male.” It was her turn to smirk, pointy fangs poking out from underneath her lips. “Despite your best efforts, you still gave away way too much.”

“You asked for a hint,” he pointed out.

“You said you weren’t giving it to me.”

He hummed, running a hand through his hair. “I suppose I did. My mistake then. Perhaps we can try this again the next time Careen insists I do some reading.”

Pallia’s amiable expression dropped into a far more worried one. “She insisted? Really? That’sss abssolutely…” she trailed off with a shake of her head. “Ignore me. That’sss not my place.”

Dontoc set the book down on the floor, shifting so he could face Pallia better. She must’ve scooted closer at some point. Or maybe he just hadn’t noticed how close they were? It was only a loveseat after all. “Are you certain? After all dear, I--”

“It’sss fine. Ssserioussssly.” She gave him a reassuring smile. It looked somewhat forced, but it was clear she didn’t want to talk about it. Better to just move on. “So, anything else to guess about the book?”

“Hm? Oh, yes right. Let me just, ah...” He reached toward the empty space in his lap for the book, but Pallia got to him first, stopping him with a soft hand. He looked at her with a puzzled expression, a stark counter to her amused one.

“Dontoc you put the book on the floor,” she said with a chuckle.

He glanced down at the floor, realizing with growing horror he most definitely did put it down on the floor. Heat pricked up his neck, causing his lips to twist into a sheepish grin. He wiggled his hand out of Pallia’s to run through his hair instead. If nothing else, the action helped calm his nerves. “So...so I did. My apologies,” he said finally.

She shrugged. “None needed. Do you even need the thing, or is the book that forgettable?”

“I ah...well, poorly constructed story or no, it is comforting to some degree to hold it. After living in what may as well have been a library alone I suppose it just...it just happened.” He sighed, a mixture of bittersweet and wistful. Memories of his childhood flooded back in waves. The lonesome library ran by a kindly jadeblood. Her impeccable ability to find whatever he should read next. The other kids trying to steal and damage them. His instructor taking his copy of The Grimdark Narrator’s wigglers tales and insisting it was inappropriate for him to read it.

Thank God Pallia was there to keep the focus, or else who knows how long he’d reminisce on the parts of his life he’d rather forget. “So you said it’s a violetblood right? And a tealblood? Not any other mid-caste.”

“Erm...yes.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Though I am not sure why that is important. It is just a caste gap. From what I understand, those are quite common in romance.”

“Oh they are. Totally common. Which is funny, considering it happens anywhere else and people can’t take it.” She pointed down at the book on the floor, the cover of which showed a lone desk covered in papers. “But that’s beside the point. So the teal is probably some personal assistant to him?”

Dontoc nodded slowly. That much was hardly a guess. While in reality tealbloods got well-to-do, white collar jobs, it seems any time a tealblood actually showed up in media, they were subservient to some higher caste. Not the same way the lowbloods were, how many of them were maids or butlers at best, but the paid equivalent of such didn’t feel like much of an improvement to him. “Of course. Did you not know that teals are little more than suck-ups to the Empire? Constantly following around the Empress to compliment her and give her the newest gossip on the common folk. After they round up all the little bad trolls, of course.”

Pallia crossed her arms, smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “Did Careen let you in on that hot tip?”

“Oh no, someone far more reasonable in such a regard. Someone with a good head on their shoulders, you see.” Pallia seemed to sag in disappointment until he added, “It was Pothos.”

“Oh my God!” she squealed. Her whole body convulsed with laughter as she fell back into the couch.  “You are not allowed to do that again!”

“...Make you laugh?” he asked cautiously. He didn’t think she was upset, but at the same time her worried look when mentioning Careen earlier had him on edge. “You are ah...you are--”

She heaved herself up and nodded, bun askew and grin plastered on her face. “Oh I’m great. I cannot believe you got me to think about that bumbling idiot. Did Careen tell you about when she thought we’d work as a quadrant?”

Dontoc shook his head: she hadn’t. While Careen was always eager to do nothing but complain about Pallia, and had been downright enthusiastic to tell Dontoc all about when his hivemate supposedly expressed flush interest in Pothos that he didn’t return, she never gave any more details. The whole story felt off in a way he couldn’t fully explain (in fact, it was another one he was willing to brush off as him projecting his crush --  sure, he can’t imagine Pallia wanting to be with a troll who truly thought skull shape indicated intelligence but maybe it was only wishful thinking), but he never told Careen such. It was good to know he had every right to be suspicious.

“How did it go?”

Pallia snorted. “About as bad as you’d expect. He learns I have a hint of an interest in something, and just starts talking over me like he’s suddenly the expert. He knows the chemical formula for table salt. That’s it. Wouldn’t know a stem cell from the stem of a plant.” She paused, eyes suddenly going wide. She wasn’t looking at him, not anymore. Her gaze was pointedly focused on that book. “Wait a second. This is her book right? Does Careen have some kind of thing for violets and teals?”

Dontoc rolled his eyes. “I doubt it. She has an odd hatred for teals. Jades too, to a lesser degree. She will not voice it, but it is present. Besides, if she really wanted you to be paired up with a violetblood to conform to her romance tropes, there are far better options.”

Pallia chuckled. “Yeah, at least if it’s like...us, it subverts that ‘teal employed by violet’ thing.”

Whatever train of thought he had immediately crashed. His face burned, and fins fluttering in embarrassment or not, there was no cooling it down in time to reduce the flush. “Ah….uh…” he swallowed harshly, realizing as he spoke his mouth was suddenly dry as sandpaper, “excuse me dear, what?”

“Oh you know. Technically speaking, you’re my research assistant. Not the other way around.” She paused, closing her eyes with a sigh. If she recognized how flustered he was right now, she wasn’t saying anything. “Then again though, considering the whole Preypal thing...maybe that doesn’t count? But sponsorships don’t count as employment. This might be more complicated than I thought.”

“You’ve thought about this before?”

“Well yeah. I mean…” They locked eyes, and he only just noticed the blush creeping on her own face. “I get bored waiting for the ion spectroscopy to finish. The logistics of how our lives would function within a work of fiction is far from the weirdest thought experiment I’ve had. I think that one started with a conversation I had with Aisral? I dunno.”

“But you have thought at length about the logistics of us...uh…”

“Ssssort of? In the same way I’ve thought about like...I dunno, me and Aisral or something. Purely hypothetical. Don’t worry. I realize you’re with Careen and talking about it’s probably strange to think about dating your hivemate...” Pallia trailed off, letting out a quiet, awkward laugh as she rubbed her neck.

“Oh impossibly so, but continue.”

“But seriously, it’s not the most unlikely thing I’ve heard. More likely than anything in that book, anyway. If that makes any sense. Sssorry for worrying you.”

“Think nothing of it.” Okay. So it’s only that they’d make a better story than whatever dribble Dontoc was reading. That’s probably true. While not the worst novel he’s come across, there weren’t many worse. His fluttering pulse calmed down enough that he actually felt he could breathe again. “If it helps, I would much rather read about us than this couple.”

Pallia smirked. “Even the pailing scenes?”

You blink harshly as your glasses slide up your nose as you adjust to the sudden clarity, and despite yourself you can’t help but glance in the mirror. If you don't have anywhere to be today, you may as well take advantage of an opportunity to use yourself as a test subject and determine if you were adhering to the usual growth patterns of trolls. They always told you - and still do, if you think about it - how the ordeals work because they are the last step a troll takes towards maturation. Everything else - emotionally, mentally and physically - you should be the physically mature adult, ready to take on the stars.

Yet, as you stared in the mirror, you look no different. Your oculars are a splotchy teal around the pupil, but they’ve looked like that for weeks. Your horns still disproportionately tall to your skinny frame and small body. And while you’ve grown, even Aisral’s taller than you. There’s a semblance of a bust - at least if your last fitting with Aisral indicated anything - but you certainly can’t see it now. Your gray skin is no darker. And feeling different? You felt the same way you did yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. Unless being an adult is supposed to feel identical to being a kid, even though you’ve been led it’s a completely different experience. Despite the day, you were just...you. Judgmental, inquisitive, and more stubborn than trolls preferred but still you.

Maybe you were an anomaly? Some runt of the grub litter who got lucky and escaped before the jades or drones could nab you? You were destined to look and feel like you did at 6.9 sweeps for the rest of your life?

But then again, you don’t remember Mayola going through any sudden drastic change. She didn’t just walk in one day with pink eyes and a mature outlook on life to both literally and metaphorically hold over you with her sudden height. She was just...Mayola. Brash, impulsive, energetic...Mayola. You don’t remember any sort of dramatic change between the 6th and 7th sweep with her.

The longer you think, the more you realize just how, within your small circle of acquaintances, you don’t remember any drastic changes. No sudden growth. No darker skin. No more amount of wisdom and experience than they ever had any other day in their life on Alternia. (Well, maybe Glacin experienced drastic change, but with every inch of his body covered, you weren’t going to ever know).

We’ve been lied to.

A sigh, far more irritated than you anticipate, leaves your throat. It’s not the nice answer, but as you ponder how horribly wrong everything they’ve said is, it’s the only answer you can come to. Hell, it hasn’t even been the first time you’ve come to that answer. Every time you perform a reportedly popular experiment that “confirmed” long-time held suspicions, you always find the experiment wildly inaccurate at best and actively biased and malicious at worst. You simply don’t like how it managed to stain the already horribly tarnished reputation of the Empire, worsening an already low opinion each time you came to such a conclusion.

You should study this. If not with yourself, you still have a couple more friends who haven’t turned seven yet. Maybe study them? But the study itself may be biased, if you work only with people you know. As your thoughts race, you scramble over to your cluttered desk to grab at your teal notebook, flipping open to a random page to jot them down before they scatter away at your newest idea: all the possible forms of study, the questions to ask, the castes available for investigation, who you’ll need to ask for help, how much money it could cost, the most effective way to obtain participants, the pros and cons of just using corpses again--

Creak.

Your mental train crashes right there in mid sentence and you scowl for a brief second. It’s easy to forgot how loud your door gets when you’re focusing on better things. You give a quick turn on your bare heel towards the sound and find a distinctly familiar looking purpleblood with long hair that partially obscures the horns that curl around his ears and even longer black coat, standing awkwardly in your doorway. Your vision does a quick once-over to ensure he doesn’t look particularly injured - this specific purpleblood has that problem.

“Pallia,” he starts pleasantly, “happy wiggling day.”

“Not much of a wiggling day if I can’t actually do anything about it,” you mutter darkly. “But thanks anyway.”

He grins. “Ah yes, I heard about your little run-in with the Heiress.” You open your mouth to retort, but he’s already continuing. “Don’t worry, it’s not spread in the cove. Much.”

You cross your arms. Memories of what Careen did come rushing back, and the familiar pain stings your gut. “You say that like it’s supposed to be comforting.”

“It is.” He snatches something out of his pocket and tosses it, letting it fall on the floor near your feet. You pick it up and run it between your fingers. It’s just a wooden coin, engraved with some odd symbol that looks vaguely like a neuron on one side and what looks like a crescent moon on the other. “It’s spread just enough that convincing the council to let you be the new lawkeeper was easy.”

Lawkeeper. Just like every other teal. You grimace, pushing the anger down. “Uh...thanks Vodnik. But I’m not sure you want me to be some kind of keeper of something that important.”

“Your display of telling the Heiress to fuck off indicates you’re exactly the troll we need,” he says, voice unusually serious for once in his life. “We need someone who can stick to their ideas and keep the murder hobos away from the port while bringing some semblance of order to a bunch of anarchists. Not some wishy-washy legislacerator who bends the knee at the nearest seadweller.”

“You’re forcing me to skimp my research,” you point out.

“We’re pirates,” Vodnik drawls. “We’re not going to force you to do dick if you’re helping us.”

“I have been helping you. It’s only pirates that come here, you know. Pirates and anyone Mayola knows.”

“Help us more frequently then.” He shrugs and starts to pace the length of your respiteblock, what little there is to truly pace. “Just once a perigee and when we have emergencies. And of course, you’ll get paid. It’s just another cove job. Think of it as... funding your research?”

You nod, letting the coin pass between your slim fingers. It’s not what you want, but at the same time, you don’t really want to research for the Empress any more than you want to do law work. You just hoped for the opportunity to go off planet. But now, you could continue your research - away from the Empress, or her bitch of an Heiress. You just might have to occasionally dip away for “official” business.

Eventually, you’re not sure how long you stand there, you look up to him with a smirk. “It’s a deal,” you say.

He swung the glass door open, sudden smell of warmth and pine filling his nostrils. Her hive certainly hadn’t been as overly decadent as the host’s of the ball, but he loved it anyway. A rainbow of genetically engineered poinsettias circled a tree that barely avoided the top of the room. It was lit up by small bulbs holding fireflies, their bodies letting off a faint, twinkling glow to the whole thing.  It wasn’t the usual troll tradition, but the both of them agreed the tradition was unsanitary and made the hive smell awful for weeks.

As he ran upstairs and toward his respiteblock, the decorations only continued. Garland and silver tinsel wrapped around the railing to the spiral staircase and followed him down the hallway, all the way down to his respiteblock. Underneath each entryway hung some kind of plant, small with bright red berries poking out of sharp leaves, the same one Mayola once pointed out to him had all those quadrant-related traditions. Sekier must’ve put them up. His love with the holidays had always been one bordering on full on obsession.

“Dontoc?”

He stopped in place, backing right into the open doorway of his room with a poorly contained grin. Pallia bolted down the highway, looking like a gray and white blur all the way until her arms wrapped around Dontoc’s waist for a tight hug. “Oh I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re safe,” she said. “I was starting to scare myself.”

Dontoc chuckled. “Pallia, I am not quite the same troll I was when we met. I can actually hold an intelligent conversation now with a stranger.”

“No, it wasn’t that. It’s just…” she sighed and buried her face in his chest. He pulled her in closer, feeling the warmth from her emanate from her. She might have been shaking. He wasn’t sure what exactly got her so distraught, but he also didn’t care. He knew her well enough this is all she’d need.

“Tell me later?” he asked softly.

She pulled away just enough to look up at him with a resolute nod. “Yeah. Tomorrow morning. I don’t wanna ruin your first 12th Perigee back here. Especially not before you get your present.”

“Oh! Goodness, speaking of such, Pallia if you do not mind for a second, I got you a gift. If you want it now, of course. Ah...if not--”

“Right!” She broke away from him, face turning teal. Dontoc tried not to miss the  “You uh...I’d give you my gift but it’s buried with everyone else’s.”

“Then we shall take care of it when the time comes. But for now, let me grab yours.” He grinned. “Wait here.”

It didn’t take him long to slide into his room and shut the door to prevent her curious stare for what the present could be. Nor was it difficult for him to find the gift, a lone bouquet of shimmering roses inside a short vase on top of his desk, underneath a tall heat lamp single handedly lighting the room. It stood out like a sore thumb among the shelves of books and stacks of papers that decorated most of his room. Dontoc carefully took them out of the vase and bundled them loosely with a spare purple bow tie before hiding it behind his back. Keep it a surprise, if only barely.

He opened the door, relieved to see Pallia hadn’t moved an inch. She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, and when the door opened craned her neck to try and see past his frame, but hadn’t actually moved. He shook his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Pallia, patience is considered a virtue, you know.”

“So’s curiosity last I remembered.” She crossed her arms. “I cannot believe you’re making me wait. Like, I know how hypocritical that statement is because I’m too lazy to grab yours right now, but still.”

Dontoc gave her a playful smile. The anticipation of giving it to her probably killed him more than it ever would her, but at this point it’s just how they spoke when they were alone. The teasing helped put both their minds at ease. “You could try giving me the magic phrase.”

“Oh, right. You mean the phrase, ‘the longer you wait, the more questions Glacin’ll have’.” She put a finger to her chin, tapping it thoughtfully. “Or was it ‘holding back a present only holds back the inevitable endgoal?’ I’m not sure.”

Dontoc hummed, fins twitching. “Not the answer I was looking for, but you make a fair point about Glacin. So here.” He pulled the flowers out from behind his back, the smile on his face quickly turning sheepish. If he’s lucky, she would accept it and let it go without much conversation. The mere thought of giving her this already made his heart pound. “Happy 12th Perigee.”

Pallia’s eyes widened. She gingerly touched one of the petals, swiping a finger across to find the iridescence remain. No paint needed. “Dontoc...they’re….” she looked up at him, equal parts curious and conused, “not naturally found in the wild. Did you…”

“I ah...well...erm…” he paused to swallow down the feeling of his heart pounding in his throat painfully, “do you remember when you taught me how to implant genetic data into another species to turn it fluorescent? Sometime last sweep, actually. Before everything ah...happened. Well, I did that. But with flowers! After all, Vodnik gets you flowers all the time for holidays so it was a safe guess to say you enjoyed them, but that’s just Vodnik so maybe I was wrong but who knows! And so anyway, I asked Zanchi if I could possibly perform what we did with something other than fluorescence, and well...it spiraled. So yes. Your 12th Perigee gift. It’s flowers.”

“It’ssss rosessss,” she clarified quietly.

If Dontoc’s cheeks weren’t burning before, they certainly were now. “Yes. Roses. Iridescent roses. You ah….you…”

“You remembered me teaching you that? All of that?”

“I...well of course. The steps are in my room, still taped to my desk.” His fins fluttered harshly against his face. “I even remember writing in my notebook if it was at all possible to impart other nature of fishes into microbes, however we had been interrupted by Mayola and Volcor before I had a chance to ask.”

She brushed her hand over the petals again absently. They turned from greens and blues to deep violets with no more than the barest touch. Her other hand rested overtop his, making no real attempt to take the flowers away. “And you kept it secret for perigees.”

“Not so when we barely see each other,” he said lightly. “Hopefully you like it? I-I mean, you haven’t uh...haven’t said--”

“Dontoc, this might be one of the single most thoughtful gifts anyone’s ever gotten me. Seriously. There are no words to properly...wait. No. I know.” She looked up at him with a shy grin. Her expression seemed not entirely on him, but above him somewhere. “Can you um...lean down? Just for a second. It’ll make this easier.”

Dontoc laughed. It was an odd request, sure, but hardly a difficult one to appease. “Make what easier? Giving me a proper hug?”

She smirked. “Not quite.” In the blink of an eye she leaned up, a feather-light touch of warm lips pressing against his cheek for the briefest second. And just like that, it was gone. She was back in front of him, face as darkly teal as his must’ve been violet. “But closssse.”

“Pal...Pallia, that ah, well, uh--” he swallowed thickly, failing to push down the lump in his throat.

“No worse than giving me rossses for 12th Perigee,” she said cheekily. She took ahold of the roses this time -- actually the roses, not just his trembling hands -- and pulled them gently out of his grasp. “Gimme a sec to get sssome water for these, then we can meet up with everyone just in time for the next wave of celebrations. Sound good?”

“I shall await your return with bated breath.”

“Good. I’m honessstly ssso glad you're home.” With a quick nod, she took the roses and seemed to prance down the hallway toward the kitchen. Dontoc waited until she was out of view to press a hand to his flushed cheek. That...that happened. Somehow. Initiated by her. On 12th Perigee, no less. It didn’t sound real in the slightest, yet were it a dream, he would’ve been violently ripped away from the scene at this point. But he wasn’t. This was real life. He wasn’t sure if it boded well for the two of them, but it was the 12th Perigee. He could focus on it tomorrow.

Fucking Careen. She deserved... something. Something worse than Pallia occasionally yelling at her after Careen manages to go out of her way to ruin her night. This time, from Careen going out of her way to interrupt her rather pleasant conversation with the goldblood. He seemed massively uncomfortable by the whole thing, and Careen nearly made him stay as witness to “Pallia’s natural violent nature”. At least she managed to get him out before the blow up.

And most obnoxiously of all, she never blew up. Careen would become snide and condescending, but she didn't get angry the way Pallia was used to. She could deal with yelling and violence. But the constant treatment that she was a wiggler, talking over her and accusing her without any further explanation? It infuriated her like nothing else. She wasn't sure how anyone put up with it, much less people like Mayola or Dontoc -- the former who had to for political reasons and the latter who just….liked her. Somehow.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead as Aisral sent a flurry of furious messages. She knew why Dontoc liked her -- sort of. And logically it made sense. Isolation, social or otherwise, did things to a troll that society never wanted to acknowledge. Maybe if she were in the same position, repeatedly told she was a useless excuse of her caste for a good chunk of her life, she would have reacted similarly. But then again, wasn't she? Simultaneously, she always had Aisral and Dontoc….didn't. Not for a while, anyway. So she had no true frame of reference. 

It certainly didn't help that Careen seemed absolutely convinced there was something going on between them for reasons that frankly made no sense. The two were friends, yes. And they lived together. And for Pallia to say Dontoc wasn't that geeky cute she preferred, or how charming he became once he relaxed, was a lie. That being said, the two barely even saw each other anymore, down to her not even seeing him at the whole ball. Or that their relationship lasted long enough to surpass the 3-4 sweep threshold in which losing interest was most likely. If anything, Careen should be less concerned now than she was sweeps ago, and yet she became more erratic and defensive with each passing sweep.

But, if she had to really reason it out, if she had to fill the red quadrant and didn’t use the moirallegiance to make it past pailing seasons, and if Dontoc were available, and if he were somehow okay with the whole asexual thing, he wouldn’t be a bad partner. He wouldn’t even just be a good partner. She’d have a matesprit who she could curl up and watch bad movies with, someone who went along with even the most seemingly inane of decisions (including the multiple times. She’d have a best friend for a matesprit. What could be better?

It was a shame their friendship put her back on Careen’s radar.

“Excuse me dear, is this seat taken?” a posh, distinctly familiar voice asked. Pallia jerked her head up, finding the tired smile of Dontoc standing at the end of the table. His hair looked just as messy as usual. Pallia didn't have the energy to say anything, she just waved him down. He slid down toward the end of the booth, the whites of his suit standing in stark contrast to the dark colors of the diner.

“Did Aisral text you?” she eventually asked.

“Actually this time you can blame Mayola. She made it her personal goal to find me and tell me you left,” he said. “I daresay no one has even realized I left.”

Pallia snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure at your anniversssary party they won’t noticssse you’re gone.”

“Careen certainly seemed extremely worked up and concerned with something I frankly held no interest in regarding Mayola. I highly doubt she will attempt to contact me tonight. But just in case-” He slid his hand into his pocket, revealing a violet phone covered in a light gray case. He pressed a few buttons and set it on the table, letting it vibrate harshly as the small legs curled into the blackened screen. “-I shall take the measures to ensure we are uninterrupted.”

Pallia smiled weakly. “Ssssshe’s angry at Mayola?”

Dontoc gave her a Cheshire cat grin. “Absolutely livid. I think she finally found out Mayola is taking this Heiress thing seriously.”

“Oh.” She exhaled, letting her shoulders droop for the first time since arriving. That took a weight off her. “Conssssidering she’s insssssissstent I’ve got ssssome kind of flusssssh crusssssh on you.” She groaned again and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ssssorry for the hissss. I know it’sss bad right now. Ssstill upssset.”

Dontoc blinked harshly several times, mouth opening and closing like a fish with his fins fluttering wildly in some kind of bizarre attempt at processing the information. Then, finally, he managed to squeak out, “Huh.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who’ssss confussssed,” she said. “Though I haven’t told Aissssral that yet. Will do ssssoon. Don’t worry I’m not gonna pussssh any of that on you.”

“Pallia, you so artfully avoid any conversation about Careen, I would truly be more worried if you did.” He frowned, gaze flickering down for a second before locking back onto her.

“You ssssay that asssss you bolt from the party to find me,” she pointed out.

He gave her a playful smirk. “Attempting to quiet Mayola does not count.”

“We both know that’s impossssssible.”

“Yes. It is. But if I do not attempt, then Aisral will certainly be upset, and she is still designing our costumes for Night of Frights. It would be dreadful of her to burn it two months before the date.” He quirked an eyebrow. “By the way, do you still wish to attend? I understand wishing to back out.”

Pallia crossed her arms. “Oh no. We’ve had thessse plans ssssince we ssstarted lissstening. I’m not backing out because of one bad night.”

“Should I be worried about your inclination to play an evil scientist working with the horrorterrors?” he asked dryly.

“At this rate, I’d file it under a possssibility,” she muttered.

Another smirk, one that she mirrored right back, however pitifully. Joking always put her in a better mood. “I feel like this should be nipped in the bud before it becomes a problem.”

“And how are you going to do that? Cassssst Allies?”

“Perhaps.” She watched as he craned his neck around to observe the empty room around them. As he stood up, he gave her a slight bow and added, “But I think I have a better idea.”

She cocked her head in confusion, mouth open to ask, but he was gone before any words could form. She watched as he approached the counter toward the same peppy brownblood that seated her not long ago. He glanced over at the table and waved shyly Pallia’s gaze dropped to the phone underneath the table, heat pooling to her face and down her neck.

“Sssstop letting Careen messsss with your nucleon,” she muttered. It’s just Dontoc. A troll who she had known for a solid four sweeps now. A troll who ducked out of more important events to spend time with her (like now), willingly went along all the times she wanted to drag him out of the hive, curled up in her lap like a purrbeast (and she had done the same), and happily assisted in experiments that went on far longer than they should have. The same troll who went out of her way to find her in a diner after she stormed out all because Mayola tipped him off.  But that ignored their large caste difference...among other things.

Careen was looking for reasons to get hate her. That’s all.

She didn’t look back up until she heard his voice again. “Consider it a gift.”

“Consider wh--oh.” On the table next to her was a tall chocolate milkshake, whip cream and all. “Dontoc you really didn’t have to.”

“You looked miserable when I arrived. Truly the least I could do.” With an chuckle, he added, “However, of course I desired one myself.”

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. He wasn’t wrong: even with the joking, she felt miserable. Mentally she might have calmed, but she could still feel the blood rush through her body, putting everything on edge. Her throat still felt choked up, and she was afraid any minute she might end up crying, even his cheery tone. “You didn’t get one.”

He grinned and stuck a second straw into the milkshake. “Yes, I did.”

And there it was again. That creeping heat on her neck that froze her brain faster than the milkshake ever could. Granted, he must have been doing something right. The anger she felt over the whole situation froze with the rest of her thoughts, replacing it with...something else she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She propped herself up in in her chair to take a long sip from the milkshake, hoping to steady her racing thoughts. The milkshake was helping, if only as a proper distraction to whatever growing situation was at hand.

“Well you’ll have to hurry up or else it’ll be gone,” she eventually said. It was all that could come to her head. The rest was replaced with some awful combination of dissipating irritation and growing nervousness.

“I will be fair, I was not sure you would be okay with me drinking at the same time as you,” he admitted. “You seem ah…”

“Anxious?” She pushed the milkshake closer to him, forcing her to rest her lean over more. Her arms laid flat on the table as her hands wrapped around the bottom of the frosted glass. “It’s better than angry.”

“Not angry is good. Anxious is not.” He took the second straw and took a short sip. “We do not need two of me running around, I feel.”

“You’re doing fine right now for some reason,” she said.

“Oh trust me Pallia, I am still a complete mess of nerves at all points in this discussion.” He smiled sheepishly and placed his cool hands over Pallia’s on the glass, telltale tremors of nervousness not stopping until his hand completely overlapped. She shuddered the minute they touched, but whether it was because of the temperature difference or something else she wasn’t sure. “I have simply gotten better at hiding it vocally.”

Her gaze dropped back down to the table, glasses sliding down her face. She wanted to push them back up her nose, but simultaneously didn’t want to move. This was pleasant. Nerve-wracking, but...pleasant. If that were possible. “I dunno, you’re not generally so bold as to try to hold my hand in public unless we’re playing it up to get highbloods to back off.” She took another long drink. “...Are we?”

His fins fluttered. “Ah...no. But you’re are lower in caste, and as such your hands are pleasantly warm.”

“So you were looking for an excuse.”

Dontoc laughed before taking another sip. Between the two of them (or well, Pallia with a smidgen of assistance), the milkshake had almost disappeared in the short amount of time they sat down together. “It is chilly outside.”

“Says the troll who is drinking a chocolate frozen moobeast drink with me in a cold diner and admitted he wanted one himself,” she said lightly. “If you want physical contact you can just tell me.”

He smiled shyly. “Do you?” He paused, and expression, fins and all, dropped. “I can stop if I am making you uncomfortable. I...well, I know you have your preferences about being touched.”

Pallia bit her lip. She was far from uncomfortable. Really, the fact that this wasn’t bothering her in the slightest worried her more at this point. It was one thing to do this in the privacy of their own hive, where only Aisral could make quips towards them. It was another to have their faces sit inches away from each other, sharing a milkshake like matesprits.

God this is weird.

She must’ve been silent for longer than she thought. In an instant, he pulled everything away completely. He didn’t break his gaze - not completely anyway, as Dontoc seemed more focused on some spot above her than her - but his fins certainly flapped hard enough she could feel the wind. “I ah...sorry. I am afraid I must have gotten carried away in my attempt at bringing your attention away from--”

She reached over to take his hand on instinct before it retracted under the table. “No you’re fine! Honesssst!”

“Are you sure? I do not want to continue if you--”

She rolled her eyes. “Dontoc, you know me. I’m more than happy to tell you I want you to sssstop.” She gave him a warm smile. “But I get why you’d be freaked out. We haven’t exactly...uh…”

He nodded and ran his free hand through his hair. “No, I understand. Though ah...if you would prefer dear, we could possibly call it and go home.”

Pallia cocked her head. “You’re not going back to the party?”

“Yes, because I shall have fun with strangers more than with a dear friend.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “Will you be okay? About everything with well-” he gestured vaguely in the air “-Careen?”

“Hopefully. If she’s more angry at Mayola right now, then I might not have to deal with her.”

Dontoc hummed and shoved his hand in his pocket. Had it always sounded so pleasant when he did that? She knew she enjoyed it, but more than that she enjoyed what it came with: long conversations with lots of back and forth. But this is the first time anything made her feel effervescent for the first time in hours. Or maybe he always did it to her, and she only just now noticed. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

Her thoughts broke when he took her free hand again, sliding a cool piece of silk. She looked down to see the barest hint of what looked like a violet handkerchief. His handkerchief. “Take this,” he said. He sounded closer. He was closer. Back to the same closeness as with the milkshake. Close enough the seadweller chill combined with those fins made her shiver. “It should serve as a reminder.”

Pallia looked at him quizzically. “For…”

He sighed. “A reminder to Careen of our relationship. But also…” he trailed off for a second to trace a circle into Pallia’s hand. His face pointed toward the floor as he spoke, but she could still see those damned fins vibrate, “in the off chance something happens and we must part, I wanted you to have something tangible to remember me by, since you have given me much in that regard, and I...ah, not so much.”

She flushed, pulse racing. It’s just Dontoc, she told herself. Your friend with a pretty voice and face and is doing a really good job making me feel bashful for no good reason, but a friend. After all, why would you only feel flushed after 4 sweeps? Who does that?

“I’m not sure 12th Perigee gifts count for that.”

“I feel they do.” He looked back up at her, sheepish smile sending butterflies to her stomach for reasons that it absolutely shouldn’t have. “And well, and even then this is hardly much of anything. However,

Okay. Maybe she did have a flush crush.

That’s not good.

She looked at the table. A free finger traced the handkerchief. The increased tangling of their fingers was a secondary, but not unwelcome, effect. She sighed softly, but for due to the former or latter reason she wasn’t sure. “No, this is perfect.” She grinned, hoping it hid the growing awkwardness she felt. “Thanks.”

He laughed quietly. “I’m glad. You deserve something you love.”

They stood there in the quiet evening of the diner for a moment before Pallia finally separated to step away from the table. “If we don’t leave soon, it’ll be daylight.”

“Hm. You’re right.” He grabbed his phone and followed suit, standing next to her with a worried frown. “Erm, Pallia...do you mind if I fix something?”

She blinked owlishly at him. “Uh...sure.”

He snickered and pushed up her glasses. “It was starting to bother me.”

Pallia blinked harshly, letting out a small squeak when his hand came up. With everything else, she completely forgot they fell. “Oh, yeah. Guess they did. Thanks.”

His fins twitched in a perfect compliment to his tinted cheeks. “I-I mean, you look fine either way. I just ah, thought you might like to see better.”

“I would, yeah.” She giggled and leaned into him. He wrapped an arm around her upper back, just past her shoulders. “Makes getting home easier.”

His hand gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I would hope,” he said pleasantly. “But come on, let’s go home.”

She leaned her head on his arm. Careen might have been right (for once). She did actually have a crush on Dontoc, and there was nothing either party could do much about. But that’s okay. She’d just take a break from him. Let the feelings simmer down. Maybe even dissipate.

Or maybe it wouldn’t. But she’d solve that later on.

“Yeah. Let’s.”

Vodnik periodically sent her money, sure, but Vodnik’s style of “charitable donation” was not only a lesser monetary value, but it was big bills shoved between the latest medical tools shuttled off in oversized, anonymous boxes. Vodnik was a sea pirate functioning wholly through fenced goods, so large online transfers were never something to expect with him. She wasn't even sure he had a Preypal anyway, assuming he knew it existed.

It could be Mayola. It was unlikely, as Pallia doubted Mayola held the forethought to hide any sort of quirk, but Mayola was a seadweller. The elite of society. Assuming she wasn't dumping it on one of the countless others she did, she could have the money.

Her door cracked open, breaking her concentration. She whipped around in her chair, catching the her violetblooded hivemate, Dontoc, dressed in his usual neatly pressed suit.

“Pallia?” he said, softly enough to her she could barely hear. “I just wanted to let you know I will be out tonight with Careen.”

She cocked her head. She hadn't considered Dontoc. Frankly, it seemed so much like the obvious choice that her initial instinct said no. That it had to be someone else hoping she’d assume Dontoc. But he certainly knew about her situation, and there's no way he wouldn't have the money to compensate her. It was more a matter of if. And she could at least see Dontoc, if he were trying to hide it was him, hoping she would assume that it couldn’t be him because he was the obvious choice, and so she’d guess someone else. “Um... okay,” she said. “Sounds good. Just one question, if you can real fast.”

She casually waved him over, and he seemed silently stride over until he stood behind her chair, resting his arms on the top. “What do you need?” he asked.

She pointed at the money transfer as she glanced over at him. “I just found this. You have any ideas?”

Dontoc’s fins fluttered as he shook his head with a little too much vigor to be wholly innocent. “Oh no! Only troll I could think is Mayola. Certainly she’s a likely suspect?”

She pursed her lips in thought. “I dunno. Maybe.” Pallia paused and leaned back in her chair. Her head briefly touched what must've been Dontoc's arm before it quickly retracted back to his side. “I'll ask her next time she comes over I guess.”

“I think that’ll work wonderfully in your favor,” he said hurriedly. “Though I do have to wonder if it could be anyone else. Doesn’t Vodnik….? Or Glacin! Surely one of them.”

“Glacin refuses to use it because it leaves a paper trail. I’m pretty sure he’d just send me solid gold if he could. And Vodnik...well... I don’t actually think Vodnik knows this exists,” Pallia said. She looked up to find him straight faced with his fins drooping slightly. “Are you okay? Need water?”

“No no...I’m - I am - fine. Aside from some common anxieties about how the night is going to go.” He started to run his hand through his hair but stopped midway, frowning. “Why do you ask?”

“Your fins are doing the drooping thing,” she said.

“Oh!” He grinned sheepishly, and she watched his fins hurriedly fan his darkening face. “Well...ah….perhaps I do need to have a quick glass of water before I leave. It couldn’t hurt. Will you ah...will you be busy later on? We could continue this discussion afterwards maybe.”

“Actually I’m going to be running some tests once Mayola gets here on her muscle strength and lung support and comparing it to perigees prior. And hopefully, if all goes well, I want to test hormonal levels upon exposure to aspects of other fuschiabloods and see what, on a chemical level, it affects. If at all.” She sighed. “If it goes well I’ll be free, but who the hell knows with Mayola.”

He nodded. “Ah...right. I’ll ah...see you then. If you’re free. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah of course it’s--”

And he was out in a flash. Pallia shook her head and sighed, pushing his odd behavior out of her head for now. She could reapproach it after dealing with Mayola...however long it would end up taking for Mayola to arrive at her hive, let alone be ready to perform routine tests instead of flirting with Aisral.

She dinked around her husktop for a few minutes, eventually pulling out her phone to send a quick text to Mayola. Mayola was quick to answer (it made Pallia debate if she had even left yet, but such was a conversation for much later), reminding Pallia the one time she tried using Preypal to pay Aisral it somehow ended up with Preypal trying to have her pay less money due to her caste, followed by a sum of money going Careen’s direction and a rather furious Mayola yelling at a surly Preypal representative on the phone threatening to get drones involved if need be, yet still the whole event got dragged out for a solid twenty minutes.

She also suggested Dontoc, since obviously who else could it be? Aside from, in her words “the ungodly pink tumor on our lives playing some trick and is gonna pull the money out here soon”, of course.

When she arrived at the hive for testing - phone in hand - she was very eager to continue the train of thought. Especially when Pallia let slip how quickly he became uncomfortable during the whole conversation. Speculation to motive ranged around from, in Mayola’s mind at least, seadweller guilt (the most likely reason, which Pallia could agree with), to some bizarre prank set up by Careen (the least likely reason, since he took a neutral route in regards to the two’s antagonism). Pallia halfheartedly attempted to move her off the topic, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the wild speculation (lowering Pallia’s guard around him to commit violent murder? Secret pale crush? Secret flush crush? Secret pitch crush? Doppleganger?), even if it slowed down the testing. The two ended up running far later than expected, and by the time everything was done, all she wanted to do was curl up under the blankets of her mattress pad, thoughts of actually bringing the topic up to to Dontoc again long forgotten.

It managed to completely leave her thoughts until the next perigee, when sure enough, only a day or two later Pallia lamented about having to purchase the Empress’ La Croix on top of overly-expensive, gaudy jewelry sold by Careen, her Preypal sent her a notification of an anonymous donation that more than covered for the whole amount and then some.

“Well,” she muttered softly, “really only one troll it could be at this point.”

She swiveled out of her chair and walked on down to Dontoc’s room, giving three sharp raps on his door and waiting a good minute before opening the door. Nothing new: it was a system they mutually agreed upon when he was still adjusting to life without sopor-induced sleep and forgetting to eat. She ended up coming in so much that knocking quickly became less a way of asking if you were invited and more a quick alert you were coming in. It worked both directions too. If the two stayed up too late the day prior, he’s used the setup to bring her coffee or announce a temporary departure.

In fact, he barely even noticed her opening the door to the glorified library of a room. Dontoc sat at his desk, focused wholly on whatever he drew in his notebook. He didn’t even seem to notice she walked in. She knocked on the open door again, louder this time. Still nothing.

“Hey Dontoc?” she asked.

Dontoc hurriedly shut the notebook and shoved it aside, head jerking away to meet hers. Pallia covered her mouth to hide her laugh, but a few loose chuckles escaped anyway. “Pallia! You….you didn't--”

“I knocked twice. You didn't hear.” She shrugged. “Can I come in?”

He nodded vigorously, beckoning her inside. She stepped through the doorframe, gently shutting the door behind her. “Of course! Please, go ahead and sit down.” he said. “Do you need something? Or rather, if you do not mind, I could use this opportunity to take care of my own business.”

"No. Well, no. That's wrong. I sort of do.” She sat on the edge of his mattress pad, kicking her feet underneath her.  “Do you remember that anonymous person who sent me money?”

She watched as his somewhat normal tired expression widen in panic, and he ran his hand through his hair in a blatant attempt to calm himself down. “Ah...vaguely. Preypal, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah.” She took a slow breath as she pieced together the best way to put this. Dontoc denied it last time, so he probably would again. “Well, it happened again. After I talked about losing a lot of money.”

He nodded slowly. “Interesting,” he said.

“And…” she paused. “I really think it's you.”

Any composure he had dropped in that instant. He blinked harshly, the quirked eyebrow and head shake contrasting his twitching, embarrassed fins. If anything, it made the feigned disbelief look like guilt. She had to give him credit, he was certainly more prepared for the accusation the second time around.

“No idea what you...you are talking about,” he said, voice straining to find vocalizations better than a squeak.

“You know? The Preypal thing? And the sender being you?”

His gaze dropped down to his fiddling fingers. “Oh.” He swallowed heavily. “And ah...you think it’s me.”

“Well, it all adds up.” She shifted herself so she leaned forward on the sleeping pad, letting her feet touch the floor. “Most of it. Mayola -- and you don’t know this one -- she doesn’t really use online payment systems after the last mistake. Vodnik and Glacin are out. I can’t see why the hell Careen would give me money, I’ll be fair. And Volcor might be cobalt, but he’s not sitting high enough for it to be worth the ridiculous amount it is. Not to mention getting an exact payment for a bunch of stuff I didn’t want to buy in the first place plus no more exactly than half of the amount of last time? That’s...that’s almost too perfect. I’m just trying to parse out why you’d go anonymous.”

“Assuming it’s me,” he said flatly.

Pallia paused to stare blankly before slowly saying, “Assuming it’s you, yes.” She shook her head. “But I honestly couldn’t think who else it would be. I wrapped my head around it so many times when Mayola was here we were starting to spin in theoretical circles.”

It wasn’t wholly the truth -- Mayola was dead set that it couldn’t be anyone else but Dontoc -- but Pallia truly couldn’t think of who else it could be. She only knew four trolls who had that kind of money. All seadwellers: two who hated her, one who hated Preypal, and Dontoc. It made the process of elimination simple.

She sighed. “You don’t have to tell me it’s you. If it is, you made it anonymous for a reason. Unless you know who it is and it’s not you. Just at least so if it is Careen or Po…anyone where the money might get immediately pulled away the minute I try to spend it I know to keep it untouched.”

He finally looked back up at her, embarrassment replaced with concern. “You...you haven’t spent it?”

“It’s been sitting in my account for at least a solid perigee so...no. I haven’t. Didn’t want something to happen to it because it’s too much for a tealblood, or the person who sent it decided they wanted it back.” She chuckled awkwardly. “But if you can assure me that whoever sent it won’t do that…”

“I get the distinct feeling the troll who sent that was unaware of such an, ah, possibility,” he said.  “I think I shall inform them of such.”

She grinned. That at least, was a load off her back. “That’s a relief. Also tell them I said thanks. The whole thing’s putting so much pressure off me that I can use to focus literally anywhere else.”

He smiled back, probably in an attempt to be warm, but with his still-fluttering fins and violent-tinted face he looked sheepish. “Of course I can. Goodness knows it’ll make them feel useful.”

“Well, they don’t have to feel useful per se, but if it makes them feel better I won’t stop them.” Pallia chuckled and hopped off the sleeping bad. “Anyway, I think I’ve held you up long enough. I’ll go ahead and get out of your hair.”

“Pallia, you are hardly holding me up. Besides, I did have my own business too.” He scooted out of his chair and stood up, reaching out for a small vase on the top of his desk sitting underneath a lamp. Flowers bloomed from the top, a messy assortment of teals and whites with a couple purples poking through.  “I ah...I do believe this is self-explanatory? This is for you. A small token of gratitude for everything you have done. I did my research and these should all be medinical, but of course they are also just pleasant to observe.”

Pallia felt her face flush. It only got worse as he stood up and actually walked over to her, holding it out. She took the arrangement from him with shaky hands, exhaling an oh so softly she didn’t even hear herself say it. “You didn’t need to do this, you know,” she said.

He shrugged. “Yes, but it has been a sweep or so since I arrived, and you love commemoration so I thought you might like it,” he said. “So yes anyway...erm, here you go.”

“Right. I’m…” she tried to swallow, but her mouth suddenly felt dry. It was an unpleasant duo to her racing heartbeat. “I’m gonna go put thissss in my room.”

She scurried out before Dontoc could get a word in edgewise, not stopping until she could get to her room to put the flowers on an empty shelf above her own sleeping pad.

“If that was intentional,” she muttered to herself as she calmed, “that was absurdly well played.”

The next perigee, right on what she figured was going to be a new schedule, it happened again. The same amount as the first perigee, still under the anonymous tag, everything. She shook her head and sighed as minimized the tab on her husktop to walk down to the kitchen, just to get a cup of coffee.

Well, get a cup of coffee and affirm one small thing.

She stopped at Dontoc’s door, not even bothering to knock this time as she peeked her head in. He was on his own husktop this time, quickly closing out of a tab before looking up at her. “Yes, dear? Need something?”

“Just wanted to ask if you knew who anonymous was,” she said cheekily.

There was a brief moment of panic that crossed his face before he rolled his eyes and smirked. “Have not the faintest idea,” he said dryly.

She returned the smirk wholeheartedly as she closed the door, barely able to withhold her laughter until it clicked shut. He’d never have to flat out tell her. She knew. He knew that she knew. And three perigees in, she didn’t think she wanted it any other way.