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The big alien has found one of the drawing apps, and he has doodled.

There’s a drawing of the cave - rain outside, mushrooms in the second cavern, a third one empty and underlined. I assume this means he wants to keep exploring.

There’s a drawing of his ship and his crew up to their knees in water. They’re all frowning. Does he know that they’re likely to flood, or is he just guessing? Expressing his fears?

Then there are our faces with our mouths open. Next to his is what looks like some kind of meat stick or bacon or something, if I’m guessing right. Next to mine he’s drawn a picture of the rations we’ve been eating from the ship- basically a squeeze pouch. Does that mean they’ve been spying on us? They came closer than we thought.

I scroll down and find another picture of us - the same as the paper note he’d left before the mud took us away. Him with his arms around me, both of us smiling. Why...

And another drawing of us - me on my hands and knees, him behind me, flush against my ass.

Fucking me.

The alien has drawn a picture of him fucking me.

I look up at him in horror. “What is this?”

He has the nerve to look proud of himself!

“No!” I say.

His smile falls.

I select the eraser tool and erase the drawing as he watches. His eyebrows crease and his shoulders sag as the vulgar image is wiped out of existence. “No,” I say again.

He throws his arms up and turns away. “Come on,” I say, gritting my teeth. “You’re an alien. I’m a human. We can’t do that.”

It would be wrong. And weird. And fuck, it would be painful. I saw what he has going on under that leather kilt. Intriguing? Maybe. But impossible!

“I’m sorry, Ryle. We can only be friends.”

“Friends.” He takes the tablet back and swipes to another app, bringing up a picture of me with my crew. “Friends?”

I smile. “Yes! Those are my friends. You’ve been learning!” He’s taught himself some new words! I could jump up and down if I wasn’t still so sore. “Please don’t be mad,” I say. Hopefully, he can at least understand my tone, guess at some of my meaning. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I was just surprised.”

He gestures at the space between us. “Friends.”

I sigh with relief. “Yes. Friends.” He understands.


Tags: Roxy Nash Science Fiction