Twelve Days of Xanthus

His countenance lightened and she smiled. Violet pushed up from the couch. “Come on, I’ll get you settled in.”

She lead him down the hallway to the room and turned on the light. Xan examined the room with care, running his hand over the dresser as he scanned the room and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He was such a strange blend of strength and vulnerability it was impossible not to like him. He touched a place that had been long dormant. At thirty-five, she had grown tired of failed relationships and given up hope of finding love. This traveler from the stars gave her hope. If he could rise above the conditions on his planet and be someone different, there might just be hope for her to find her happily ever after.

“Do you remember where the bathroom is?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re all set. If you need anything, come to my room, okay?”

“Yes.”

“Goodnight.”

“Good night, Violet.”

Violet closed the door to his room, walked to her own, and slipped beneath the covers. The things Xanthus told her were amazing. His planet sounded like something out of a science fiction movie. Brilliant colors painted his landscape but the beauty wasn’t worth the price the males paid. Born into slavery, they were controlled and commanded from the moment they were old enough to be put to work. It was appalling. She was impressed that he’d had the stones to attempt escape at all. As she drifted off to sleep, she knew she’d help this man to become self sufficient enough to fend for himself in his new world. To do anything else would be cruel.

Her father was the type of man who’d give a person the shirt off his back if they needed help. It was a legacy he’d passed on to his children. She couldn’t count how many times they’d been dragged into some project because family friend needed assistance. A friend in need was a friend in deed was a motto the O’Shea children had heard a lot. It was also something she’d adopted in her adult life. Her way of leaving her mark on the world and bringing positivity to a society flooded with negativity. This is not the same as helping someone move. No, but if anyone had ever needed help this man did. She rolled onto her side and sighed. She might regret this latter but her mind and her Irish Catholic upbringing and the fact that she didn’t believe in coincidences had her believing it was the right thing to do. Surely, he was brought her to her for a reason? She tossed on to her back. Was she the right person for this job? Could she give him a crash course in normalcy and stay one step ahead of the woman searching for him? Violet wasn’t sure, but she’d give it her best shot.

Chapter Two

A sharp pain in his stomach woke Xanthus from his slumber. The gurgles and growls told him it was time to eat. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and allowed his vision to adjust to the bright light that spilled in through the window on the opposite side of the room. The UV rays were different here and his eyes were still adjusting along with the rest of his body. He pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side as he took stock. His bladder was full, his belly was empty. He stood, walked over to the door, and listened for the sounds of Violet stirring. The cabin remained

silent. He opened the door, stepped out, and padded to the bathroom she’d shown him the night before.

When steamy hot water exited the shower head, he shed his clothes, unbound his waist length hair, and slipped inside. The planet he came from was extremely hot all year round. There was no need for much more than he wore now. The droplets fell onto stiff muscles in a refreshing massage and he was grateful when the stench of travel washed off his body to run down the drain. Ten minutes later, he was refreshed and ravenous. He stepped out of the shower, dried off, and wrapped his lower body in a fluffy, black towel. He made his way to the kitchen. Violet sat at the breakfast table, still clad in flannel pants and a white t-shirt, gripping a white coffee mug. She took a healthy swallow and set the mug on the counter.

“Crap. I thought you might have been an image of my over worked imagination.”

“I need food, Mistress.”

“Violet, remember?” She pushed her chair back from her table and stood. “What would you like?”

“I’m not sure.” He shook his head. “I know the words for your items, but I don’t know what they would taste like on my palette.”

Her eyes grew wide and filled with understanding. “Well, I guess the only way to know is to try things out.”

She opened up the refrigerator and came out with a group of round, green items referred to as grapes. She picked them free, washed them in the sink, placed them in a bowl, and handed it to him. He popped two in his mouth and frowned. The mushy insides felt strange on his tongue. He chewed, swallowed, and grimaced.

“No, huh?”

“No, Mi- Violet.”

“What didn’t you like about them?”

“They were very...mushy? Squishy?”

She chuckled. “I get you, and mushy was the right word to use, though squishy works too. How about we try some cereal? That’s hard and filling.”

She pulled a blue box off the counter and shook out three inch squares into a bowel. He watched her go into the refrigerator and take out a gallon of milk. She poured the white substance over the squares and he frowned, skeptical about his enjoyment of the combination. A few minutes later, Violet placed the offering in front of him and he struggled not to turn his nose up.

“Eat it before it gets soggy and the milk warms.”

“Yes, M- Violet.”

“You don’t have to answer me with an affirmative response every time I say something to you. Hell, you can tell me no if you want to, but in this instance, I wouldn’t suggest it. You have to eat something, and this is the fastest way to figure out what you like.”

He took hold of the metal handle, dipped the spoon inside the square-filled white pond, and lifted it up to his mouth. The milk was creamy, cool, and quite delicious. The squares were crunchy, he’d give them that. He looked up to see Violet watching him like a hawk through narrowed eyes.