I dropped my shields, not all of them, but enough. Nathaniel padded into the room, wearing nothing but a pair of silky jogging shorts. Healing and a little facial reconstruction, you are good, he said, and his tone made it not a compliment. I was looking at him like you'd gaze on a lover, but it was all tied up with food, and smell, and things that were so nonhuman that I was having trouble processing them.
I spoke before I had time to think, which I'd tried to stop doing. The only thing that was probably more vibrant was his hair. I had the jar of salt open. Actually, Officer, and I read his name tag in the bright lights, Douglas, I think I will be working tonight.
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