I bite my lip. "Are they all dead?"
"Very." Jerrok watches my face, his expression solemn.
"Are…we in trouble? Because we killed these men?"
A grin creases his face. "This scum? No, not at all. Even if someone came looking for them, it'd likely just be to collect the bounty. No, we're fine." He nods at the ship. "Except maybe we have a lot more scrapping to do than anticipated."
I let out a huff of breath, too relieved to laugh. Actually, I don't even know if I'm in a laughing mood. There's adrenaline rushing through me with nowhere to go, and I feel restless and odd. I set the blaster down and step away from it. "I took that off your wall."
"I'm not sorry. Take what you like as long as it's not aimed at me." There's a glitter in his eyes that tells me he's feeling the same surge of adrenaline I am, the same strange giddiness.
"Do you often get robbed?" I take a step toward him. "Because you're out here alone?"
He shakes his head and he closes the distance between us. "No. I get left alone for the most part. These must have been desperate." He reaches out and brushes his knuckles against my cheek, a look of concern on his face. "You sure you're okay?"
I take his hand and hold it to my face, closing my eyes. It's not his prosthetic but his other hand, and instead of feeling metal and the occasional too-bulky part underneath the surface, I feel calluses and warm, suede-like skin. "I'm okay. I just need to process."
"You're keffing amazing," he murmurs, and I don't realize I need praise until this moment. "You saved me."
His voice is low and rich with emotion, and I can't think of a thing to say. He seems to be waiting for some sort of response, so I just sit there and hold his hand before I finally chirp out, "That's what friends do."
I know I've fucked up when his expression goes blank and cold, and he pulls his hand out of my grip. "I don't need friends."40JERROKFriends.
Keffing friends.
I've allowed myself to hope, and this is what I get for hoping—an ache in my chest and a feeling of stupidity in my gut. Friends. Of course she wants to be just friends. Why would she look twice at station garbage like myself? Even if I was whole of limb and un-keffed in the head by war, I'm worthless and broke. The brothers will find her a protector that will keep her nice and safe—or they'll keep her as crew. She can do better than a junk trader, and it's stupid of me to even entertain the idea.
Friends.
The thought rings in my head like a constant taunt, even as I space the bodies and then hose down the hangar bay with water from the recycler. If we're friends, why is she kissing me? She did say that kisses meant nothing.
Well, I'm not human. They mean something to me, and I don't like that she's practicing on me.
I head into the ship once the bay is clean enough and use a crowbar to pry out the circuitry, feeling a particular sort of pleasure when it sizzles and sparks. Destroying things helps. Always does. I bring out a scanner and do a quick check of the ship itself. Stolen, of course. No trackers, though, so I make a mental note to get started on it in the morning.
For now, I'm keffing tired. It's been a long day of cleaning and then checking over the ship. I just want to eat some dry noodles and relax and be left alone. I hope Sophie's in her room, because I'm not sure I can handle her sad eyes or her touching me with gentle, hesitant fingers. Because we're friends.
The word is like poison in my veins, polluting everything.
I head inside the station, but as I pass by Sophie's room, it's empty. My gut churns a little more. Maybe she's in the terrarium with her pet. I keep my hopes up for that option, even as the scent of askri noodles fills the air. Those are my favorite, even though I've never indicated it to her. She must have figured it out from our meals together, and it's like another punch in the chest. She's not going to leave me alone to muddle through my thoughts. She's going to force me to confess my stupid infatuation with her and embarrass me even more.
When I march down the hall, I see her in my quarters, stirring the noodles. She looks up at the sight of me, her expressive eyes full of emotion. She looks sad. Yeah, well, that makes two of us. I don't want to share a bowl of FRIENDly noodles with her. Instead of heading into my quarters, I go straight to the lavatory and turn the shower on. I strip off and step under the hot spray, hoping that it'll take my mind off things. Or better yet, that Sophie will get the hint and leave me alone.