Rivers of Orion by Dana Kelly (a court of thorns and roses ebook free .TXT) 📕

She stood before him with her hands in her sweater pockets, her black hair flowing down to the middle of her back. “Did you take my advice?” she asked. “It looks like you did, since you aren’t shaking and covered in sweat.”

“I did.” Orin smiled drowsily. “You were right about the clothes, and you were right about this. The transition back into the primary went very smoothly, thank you. Maybe one day you can tell me how it works.”

“It’s not magic, or anything,” said April. “I play music during the nightmare transition because it helps me focus on something familiar, engaging my mind on multiple levels. It lets my nightmare body do what it must to emerge, without the stumbling blocks of conscious thought. Unfortunately, the primary transition is always painful and terribly confusing if I’m awake for it.” She covered her mouth as she yawned. “Since I haven’t found anything that makes it easier, it seems best to avoid the experience entirely, by sleeping through it.”

“That definitely worked for me,” said Orin. “I’m surprised the t-net communities don’t have any suggestions.”

April glanced away for a moment. “The only legitimate binary communities out there are agency-sponsored, and I’m not with the agency. You’d be surprised by how vicious some primaries can be. They’ll mine independent communities for every bit of data they can and broadcast it to their hate groups. They do terrible things to us when they think they can get away with it.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the news,” said Orin. “It’s shameful.”

She took a deep breath. “So, no communities for me. It’s just safer to go it alone.”

“You’re not alone anymore,” he said. “You have me, and since we spent the past five weeks on this starship laying the foundation for it, all we need now is the perfect name for our community. Like, Orpril’s Outcasts, or Cooking with Aprins.”

April laughed. “Clearly, you’re obsessed with portmanteaus. You might want to seek counseling for that.”

“So… I’m getting a strong ‘maybe’ from you on both suggestions.”

“I like the sound of Orin and April,” she said, and she tugged him closer. “Or April and Orin. What do you think?”

“I…” he stammered, and he blushed as she gazed into his eyes. “I like the sound of both.” But his smile turned mischievous. “Don’t get me wrong, I do like them, except that neither is very efficient or witty-sounding. Can you find a way to mash them all together?”

“You just missed your chance to kiss me,” she said, and she swatted his forearm. “You’re going to be up all night kicking yourself, unless you do something about it right now.”

“Then maybe I didn’t completely miss my chance after all,” said Orin

“Not completely,” said April, and she closed her eyes as Orin leaned close. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him lower, and he held her gently by the waist. She felt his body tremble. Her heart raced as she waited for his lips to touch hers, and her breath stilled as she sensed his body heat.

Orin exhaled and withdrew. “Uh, do you know what happened to the boxers I was wearing before we crossed back?”

She groaned. “Orin, what’s wrong?”

He stepped back, looking dejected. “It’s just that the last person I got involved with started out as a work friend, and if we’re going into business together, I don’t want things to turn terrible between us if we break up.” He grimaced. “Could you imagine our fights?”

She studied him for a moment. “Hm. You see, that sounds reasonable, but that’s not why you’re reluctant. Is it?”

Orin looked away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Except for this one time,” she said.

He quickly shook his head. “No, it’s just… It’s just that our connection is so strong, all I needed to do was think of you, and I projected to you! I’m still learning what I can do, and I’d die inside if something happened to you because of me. So, I’m not saying no, just…”

“Not right now,” she said.

Orin nodded. “Right.”

April crossed her arms and gazed up at him. “Now, that seems reasonable. I’m disappointed of course, but I’m willing to wait for you to figure things out.” She nudged him playfully. “For a little while, at least.”

“April, I…” Orin put his hands in his pockets. “I’m dying to know what happened to my boxers.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please! Well, I advised sleeping naked for a reason.”

“You did, but I’m modest, and I’ve never been comfortable with that,” said Orin.

April looked at him with disbelief. “Two weeks ago, we danced in nothing but my bathrobe!”

“True, but in my defense, I didn’t realize I was naked until Malmoradan pointed it out,” said Orin. “You can’t hold that against me.”

“Except that we did for almost five minutes,” she said, and she sighed. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see what happens to your boxers.”

“I can’t be the first binary that chose not to strip down,” he said.

“Oh no, many others have done exactly as you have—and some with far more clothing, too,” said April. “In fact, there’s a t-net personality that makes all their money on selling whatever comes out on the other side. As I understand it, the fates of all transition clothing are as varied as the individuals who wear them.”

He smelled himself, and he sniffed his clothes. “Last question, then. Why don’t I stink?”

“It doesn’t need to be the last question. I was hoping you might join me for a cup of joe before the rest of the ship wakes up.” She indicated the passageway.

“I’m more of a hot chocolate kind of guy.”

“Have you ever tried mixing the two?” she asked.

Orin stared, aghast. “What a horrible waste of hot chocolate! Who would ever do such a thing?”

“Lots of people,” said April. “They’re called mochaccinos,