I swallowed as Rafe unleashed one of his brilliant smiles at me. But like his previous ones, they only lasted seconds and I was left dazed as he turned to continue leading me down the corridor.

I looked down at his fingers that were caught securely around mine and I wondered what was happening.

Were we the same people who, a month ago, didn't know the other existed?

I looked up at the back of his head. His dark perfect hair of silk looking beautiful in the light that reflected off it. My gaze trailed down his muscles back, his shoulder blades flexing with movement under his silver suit. My eyes trailed down and my face heated.

I should not be checking out someone's ass like some perv!

Then again, with the ass walking in front of me, it wasn't like I was-

No, Amour!

I cleared my throat and looked away.

"I can walk without you dragging me you know?" I muttered at him, walking a little faster so that I could stand by his side rather than behind him, our fingers intertwined between us.

He made a noise of acknowledgement at what I said, but didn't say anything else.

I looked at him with a sideways glance, but could read nothing on his carefully blank face.

"I feel like I'm going to get in trouble. Your father warned me that I would be watched," I muttered to him.

Rafe slid me a glance, "I will not let you get into trouble."

I stopped walking, causing Rafe to stop too, but only because he saw me stop or I'd probably have been dragged along because he was so much stronger than me.

"Are you hungry?" I asked him.

Rafe continued to look at me for sometime. I didn't know why he was considering me with such a serious expression, but I stayed still not saying anything.

"No, Amour. I am not hungry." He finally told me and I nodded.

"Are you hungry?" He asked me then.

I blinked, then shrugged.

"I don't really know." I admitted, "When we were in our cells, the most we had was a pill or two a day to provide us nutrients. So most of the time we were almost always feeling hungry. I guess I'm used to feeling it...I don't recognise it anymore."

Rafe stilled, his dark and fire eyes seeming to widen slightly. Then he leaned forward, his fingers capturing my chin again as he tipped my face up.

"I will never let you go hungry again." He promised me, the heat of his eyes searing me as warmth crept under my skin, spreading to the tips of my fingers and toes.

I swallowed.

"That's an awful lot of promises you've made today," I noted.

"And I intend to keep every one of them." He said, turning us to head in the direction we were going, again.

He then stopped, running his bracelet over an Identity Screen and allowing us access to a room.

I stepped inside and blinked.

This was a kitchen. An actual kitchen. With food cooking, broth bubbling, steam curling up and out of containers and smells wafting from everywhere.

There were four chefs inside, each governing over a different counter.

I recognised one of them from before, the short (relatively), plump C'Riel, who had handed me my pot and sponge and directed me to scrub before disappearing.

Rafe lead us straight to her.

"Miesha," he said and the C'Riel turned to look at him, a wide smile spreading her lips and softening her face and her maroon eyes.

Then he continued to speak in his language and I was lost as I listened to the words the spilled out of his mouth like the flow of water over stones. Smooth, gentling.

He gestured with his free hand at me and I heard my name in the midst of the other words he uttered, and I smiled at the C'Riel as she took me in, and her eyes stopped at our entwined fingers.

I coughed delicately and uncurled my fingers from his, not looking at Rafe when he turned to look at me.

"Amour.." The C'Riel said, seeming to try out my name on her lips.

I nodded, she'd pronounced it right. I smiled at her while she continued to look at me.

"Miesha," she said, introducing herself. But there was no smile on her face. Only a carefully guarded look.

I grinned, "I like your name much better than his." I admitted to her, jerking my thumb at Rafe.

She tilted her head, her dark short hair that reached only to her ears, sliding a little to the side

"How you say his name?" She asked me.

It took me two seconds to realise that she wasn't as well-versed in English as the other C'Riel were. Her rendition of our language made it sound more like their language. More soft around the edges and free-flowing than it really was.

"I shortened it," I said, proudly and heard Rafe let out an amused sound from beside me.

Miesha's brows furrowed, "Short how?" She asked.

"I call him Rafe." I said.

"After an Angel of God," Rafe added, a smirk on his face.

I tossed him a glare. I knew he'd taken what that girl had said seriously!

"I did not name you after an Angel of God," I said.

"Yes, you did." Rafe said, walking over to Miesha to peer into whatever was boiling in the container in front of her.

I held up a finger, "No, I didn't." I clarified, "I named you after what I could understand of your ridiculously unpronounceable name."

Rafe tossed me an arch look.

"I have a perfectly pronounceable name. Just not by humans." He said.

I rolled my eyes, "I have a perfectly pronounceable name and you call me Hills, so please. I win this argument." I said.

"That makes no sense," he told me.

"Neither does your name." I told him.

"My name makes complete sense."

"Oh, really? What does it even mean?" I asked.

"It means the one with Honour, whose heart is filled with Truth and the one who will lead his people to the path of righteousness ." Rafe said.

Oh.

"Huh." I said, thinking about it, "No wonder it's so hard to pronounce. All that in one word?"

He nodded in affirmation, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Mine just means a single word," I said then smiled, "My mom named me."

Rafe's amusement died and a serious expression took its place, as he walked around Miesha and stepped to me.

"Your mother named you?" He asked, looking at me intensely, like what I was going to say meant a lot to him.

"Yeah," I told him, lost in memories of my father telling me my mother loved French, "She loved French. And she loved the word Amour. So she decided to name me Amour."

"Love, correct?" He asked me.

I looked at him, surprised.

"How do you know?" I asked him.

He smirked at me, turning away, "How, indeed," he said mysteriously.

"Once this whole no-touching rule is revoked, you're going to be filled with bruises." I huffed in frustration.

Rafe, who'd been turning away, turned back.

His eyebrows raised, "Bruises from?" He asked me, a crooked smile lifting his lips.

I blinked, "From me hitting you..."

"Ah." He said, looking like he was holding in a smile.

"What did you think?" I asked, suspiciously.

He gave me an innocent look, "What do you mean?"

Then I scrunched my nose at him, "You thought something perverted didn't you?" I said and he gave me a smile that confirmed my guess.

"I would've never guessed that you're such a perv," I said walking towards Miesha, but careful to stay far enough, to peek at the contents of the container like Rafe had.

Oh it smelt good.

"And why is that?" He asked, going to the opposite side of Miesha, but looking at me.

I was still considering the container curiously as I answered, "You seemed so straight-laced. I didn't think you'd be such a vixen."

I looked up at him and watched as he laughed. He threw his head back and let out the most beautiful sound in the world. I was smiling wide when he came back down from his high. That's what I'm going to call it.

Him laughing: his high.

Both of us were smiling at each other when we heard a throat clear and we looked to Miesha who'd been standing in between us the whole time, but we'd completely forgotten about her.

I cleared my throat, "What are you making?" I finally asked her.

"She is making my favourite." Rafe said, tossing Miesha a fond smile, who returned it.

"And what's that?" I asked, smiling at the two of them.

Miesha named it for me and I didn't understand a syllable.

"Sounds delicious." I said and watched as Miesha chuckled.

"Broth?" She said finally after thinking for a few seconds.

Ah.

"Awesome." I said.

The side of my hip vibrated and I pulled my device out.

Are you okay?

It was Wolf.

I'm fine. And you? I asked.

Ego is a little bruised. But I'm fine. He replied.

Why is your ego bruised? I asked, my brows furrowing.

These bloody pots apparently weren't clean enough. I had to redo some of my pots. How did the damn alien find out that they weren't clean? They were black before and still bloody black after. All looked the damn same to me.

I let out a laugh and was about to reply when Rafe plucked my device out of my hand.

"Rafe!" I said, making a grab for it.

Rafe raised his eyebrows, walking away from me, tilting the device left and right as if to say, Come and get it.

He the held it above his head.

"Are you serious?" I asked him, going on tip toe to try to grab it, but he was too tall.

I dropped back down to my heels and huffed, before trying again. Rafe reared back a little when I jumped, a playful smirk lifting his lips.

"Rafe!" I complained, "Give it back."

"You were talking to him, weren't you?" He asked.

"Who?" Miesha asked from behind us, half watching us and half adding spices to her broth.

"My friend," I said the same time he said, "Her friend."

Except I said friend like I meant it and he said friend like it was something dirty.

"Don't push me, Rafe." I growled at him.

"Big words for someone who cannot even take a device back from me."

I scoffed in indignation.

Then, just to piss him off and hopefully scare him enough to make him hand my damn device back to me, I lifted my hand.

He stilled watching my hand move, his still hovering above his head with my device in his hand.

I slowly directed my hand towards his chest. He didn't stop me. His eyes flicked to mine and they held a dare.

Was he daring me to touch him?

Through the suit. But still.

Fine. He asked for it.

I placed my hand on his chest and used it as leverage to lift myself up again to try to grab for my device.

"Give it back!"

"No." He said, his hovering hand moving a little higher to get it out of my reach.

I caught his arm with my hands and try to bend it, but he was too strong and I felt his free hand reach to my waist to attempt to draw me back down to my heels. So I pushed up higher, trying to counteract his move.

This was how we were when a sharp sound behind us stilled us both.

We looked at each other, our chests pressed to one another from all the pushing and pulling we'd been doing, my arms pulling on one of his, his other arm had ended up around my waist and my whole body weight was resting on him and he balanced us both easily. We were breathing hard as we stared into each other's eyes, our lips centimetres away because I was standing on tip toe and he was looking down. His hot breath brushing my lips as mine probably did the same to his.

Another sharp sound and Rafe looked over my head, his hand dropping from my waist as both of us stepped apart.

I looked to meet angry, spiteful blue and white eyes.

Great.

Bitch-ya. I mean. Anya.

Her eyes perused me, before flashing to Rafe, whose expression was cool and his arms were crossed and his feet were braced apart.

She spat something out at him and he responded coolly. She said something and his eyes flashed, his head whipping around to the other chefs in the room, who were still and watching everything that happened with wide eyes. Only Miesha continued her work like nothing was happening. She was almost humming.

Heat spread along my face as I realised I'd made a spectacle of myself.

I cleared my throat, stepping towards Miesha.

"It was nice to meet you," I told her, smiling when she nodded back and said, "You too."

Then I turned to leave, ignoring Rafe when he growled out my name once.

I rubbed a hand down my flushing face and asked a passerby C'Riel where the closest restroom was.

He threw me a weird look and pointed out the right direction.

I hurried to the restroom to both relieve myself and splash some water on my face and cool down a little.

What was I doing?

And who was I doing it with?

The last thing I needed on this plant was unnecessary attention. Especially from my District Leader. And I wasn't talking about Rafe. I was talking about Anya. She hated me. And she set my schedules. She could control every moment of my life if she wished.

She could make my life hell here. No way I was going to look for trouble on an alien planet with an alien race.

Shaking myself mentally, I went back to the room I'd been washing pots in, grabbed another set of gloves and got down to the mind-numbing task of scrubbing.

I stopped only when I couldn't feel my hands, and my fingers were cramped and Wolf tapped my on the shoulder, with a worried look, letting me know that it was time to leave.

I stuck to Freesia and Wolf the whole time, while both him and Freesia exchanged glances.

"Hey. Have you seen Kylee?" Freesia asked.

I shook my head, no.

"I've been wanting to talk to her." I mused.

Wolf nudged me.

"You okay?" He asked.

I nodded, "Perfect." I said.

"Where's Mr. Aggression?" He asked me.

I shrugged, "Probably with Ms. Stick-Up-Her-Butt." I said.

Freesia snickered and I tossed her a grin.

I was quick to get into the Hover, dragging both my friends in with me. Just when I was thinking that I should message Kylee and ask her where she was, since I hadn't seen her all day, I realised that my device was still with Rafe.

Letting out a string of some very creative adjectives in my head, I turned to Freesia.

"Can you do me a favour?" I asked her and she nodded.

"My communication device is with Rafe," my breath hitched a little at his name and I covered it up as a cough.

"Can you please get it for me?" I finished.

She blinked a few times.

"You want me to get your communication device back?" She asked.

I nodded.

"From Rafe?" She asked again.

I nodded. Again.

"I'm confused." She admitted.

"Yeah," I muttered, "Me too."

She threw me a you're-weird look, but got up to do as I'd requested. I threw her a grateful look that she responded to with a wink.

She was out of the Hover while I sat on tenterhooks.

Why was I so nervous?

I've never been this nervous before.

Exactly six minutes, forty five seconds later (not that I was counting), Freesia entered with pursed lips, handing me my device as she settled next to me.

"Fair warning," she muttered before I could thank her, "He's pissed."

"Did he say something to you?" I whispered.

She shook her head, "Not really. Though I've never been looked at in such a way before."

"What way?" I asked.

Freesia thought about it before saying, "Like I was ruining his life."

My device chirped in my hand and I looked at it.

It was a message from a chip ID my device did not recognise.

I read what it said.

Do not play games with me, human. Stay away from him.

I snorted out a laugh.

Oh, how adorable.

I ignored the message.

No one's got time for bitches.

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