|19| Coming-Of-Age

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TAERIC


Jace scoops sand to the side and jams a couple stick into the ground. Emara had already built a fire, and I am working on cutting and preparing the creature that she calls a fish.

I can tell that this place is special to Emara. She had mentioned her father when we were walking by, and before then, she had only brought him up to sympathize, revealing both he and her mother were dead. This place holds memories. Memories that more than likely are bitter sweet for her.

"You know, I used to come here with my dad a lot." Emara smiles. "Sometimes we would even start a fire and cook some fish like we are doing right now."

I almost startle out of my crouched position and drop the fish. Could human females read thoughts? It is almost eerie how perfect the timing was.

"Only a few times, though. We hated to leave my mom out, and she was the best at cooking the trout anyway." A soft chuckle escapes her lips.

She must have been thinking about them. There was nothing to say, so instead we fall into a silence, the only sound Evey and Lilly's laughter and the crackle of the fire. It is still bright outside, but the shade afforded by the trees shadows Emara's face, making the flames dance over her features. It highlights the brush of freckles along her cheekbones.

A glimmer fills her eyes, and she glances down. A beautiful, but pained smile dances on her lips. "My dad had the most infectious laughter. I can still remember its sound." She touches her mouth as laughter lights up her eyes. "He had a terrible mustache. It was like a caterpillar across his face."

I have no idea what a caterpillar is, but I smile anyway.

"My mom would tease him mercilessly about it," she continues, "he would tease her right back about her Irish brogue, and her face would turn red, her accent only getting thicker when she was flustered. But I could also see the love in their eyes whenever-" She let out a choked sort of cry. "They loved each other a lot. They loved me a lot."

I place my hand on hers, not knowing what else to do but that to comfort her. My words would mean nothing to her, since she can not understand me. And I know no words can take the pain away. My own parents' death still hurts. But I also know what a comfort it is to talk about them.

Emara looks down at my large hand over hers. It is almost absurd to see just how much her hand is dwarfed by mine. Her hand turns up in my palm and she gives my fingers a soft squeeze. "Thank you." Her hand pulls away just as quickly. I wish she hadn't. Her delicate hand in mine felt so right. The moment is over too quickly. "You know, I never asked, how old are you? Random, I know, but if we are going to be spending a lot of time together, we should probably know the basics."

I have a feeling I could spend a whole lifetime getting to know every little thing about you, Emara. My thoughts whisper through my mind. I don't even bother trying to stop them. It is true. I find everything about her fascinating. I am glad she likes to talk and tell me things, because my lack of ability to ask questions with as much ease as I would have liked is grating.

"I believe I am around 25 of your Earths years. Our planet rotations are very similar."

The computer hums and loads, drawing my simple words out. She nodded with a smile after my words were translated. "Ahh, so not that much older then. I am '20 Earth years'." She chuckles, teasing my wording. "I will be 21 about 8 months from now... pretty much a staple for adulthood on Earth in America, at least. Doesn't matter much now, though."

My eyes widen, and I nod. That sounds similar to a coming-of-age ceremony called duklbaev. I wonder how different Earth ceremonies were. Perhaps they already have their markings before- I blush and let out a choked sound as thoughts overtake my mind. It is not pure of me to think about what a female's markings could look like. They are not for anyone to see until she has a mate, and he is to be the first to see them outside of her own kin once they are coupled. Seeing them before then is as good as a promise for much more than she could possibily agree to with me.

𝙍𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝘿𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙭Where stories live. Discover now