KALLE – Human world

As Gahrye's hands slipped to the next button on his leathers, Kalle gasped and whirled around, putting her face in her hands. She had heard about this side of the Anima. Their lack of self-consciousness.

"Oh! Um,

" she squeaked.

"When adult humans change their clothes, they usually go into a different room so they aren't… you know… naked in front of each other.

"

"Oh, right,

" he hesitated.

"Elia told me that. Sorry,

" he said, his voice low and deep, hushed. She couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or irritated because she couldn't see his face. She still had hers hidden in her hands.

"I'll just… go,

" he said.

Mortified, she listened to him move across the room. Well, not really, because he made basically no sound when he walked. But she could feel him walk away like she felt the sun move behind a cloud.

She wanted to sink into the floor and die.

She wanted to climb him like a tree.

She wanted to be a **ing professional!

Gah! What was wrong with her? She'd been around attractive men before. They didn't turn her into this bumbling, childish girl. Why did he have that affect on her?

She groaned quietly as the door to his bedroom closed behind her and she yearned to go throw it open and leap on him.

She blinked and coughed a laugh as she remembered all the jokes she shared with her grandmother about what she'd heard about the Anima and how they functioned in these areas.

They were… quite open with their attractions apparently. Very unashamed of their bodies—no wonder, looking at Gahrye—and happy to discuss, er, relations openly.

She'd asked her grandmother once if she'd ever had sex with an Anima. They were around a lot more often when her grandmother was her age. Her grandmother had just winked and said she'd lived many lives and she couldn't possibly remember back that far.

Which meant she had.

Kalle was… curious. But given the conversation they'd just had in the library—a conversation she'd thought was going well until she mentioned the differences between them. She knew they were all about dominance and hierarchy, maybe he thought he needed to find someone that other humans would see as superior? Or something.

She didn't know. She just knew what it looked like when a man was suddenly very clear about not being interested, and that was the signal he'd given her, pulling away, keeping his eyes down, finding a reason to move away from her.

Maybe she'd misread what he was doing at the beginning. Maybe he hadn't meant to indicate he was attracted to her, and when she'd said that he'd realized she thought he was.

OH DEAR LORD, HOW MORTIFYING.

Shaking off her embarrassment and horror, Kalle walked towards the door. She would wait for him from a safe distance over by the—

"Is this correct?

"

She hadn't heard him open the door. Startled, she whirled, and her mouth dropped open again.

The hoody was a lovely brushed navy with read and white lettering on the chest, and she'd been right. It was exactly the right color to set off his eyes. He stared at her, arms open to display himself in the vintage jeans, the question on his face and she had to swallow.

Twice.

"Um, yes. Yes. That'll be great,

" she said faintly.

"So, I won't stand out?

"

Her false smile faltered.

"Oh, you'll stand out,

" she muttered under her breath, then turned around as she realized he'd heard her. Stupid Anima hearing.

"Shoes!

" she said brightly and he flinched at her slightly unhinged tone.

"You need shoes. That's what we're missing. I'll just… I'll go get some for your… very large… feet,

" she said with a glance down.

Then she practically ran from the room.

*****

GAHRYE

After wrestling with the new trousers, and grimacing at the way they rubbed his skin, he opened the door of the bedroom and stepped out into the living area in the new clothes feeling very awkward.

Wearing these felt like being wrapped in the leaves of the paper plant. He kept expecting to crackle when he walked. Especially the pants. And he walked somewhat stiffly, unaccustomed to the way the clothing felt like it restrained him. He hoped he wouldn't look like there was something wrong with him.

The pants—Kalle called them jeens—were thick and looked like they had already been worn out. Given the luxury of the rest of the house, he's thought it odd that they would give him such worn and torn clothing. But when he walked—stiffly—out to see her, her eyes lit up when they landed on him.

Humans liked clothing that looked worn?

Uncertain what else to do, he'd asked her if he'd put them on correctly, and if he looked appropriately human so he wouldn't stand out. But then as she turned away, she'd muttered under her breath,

"Oh, you'll stand out…

"

But before he could ask, she'd jerked her gaze from his eyes—somehow her scent still spiking when she scanned his shoulders.

He felt that gaze like finger tracing his skin and had to swallow the mating call again.

He had loved the way her eyes lit up when she saw him in these clothes, but he almost—almost—wished they hadn't. These things were so desperately uncomfortable, he'd hoped they wouldn't work. But then she'd scanned down his body and babbled about shoes, something to do with his feet, then she fled, her scent stumbling over itself like a foal that hadn't found its legs yet.

What the hell just happened?

He looked down at himself and the strange clothes that felt too stiff, and far too tight around his throat. He bent first one knee up, then the other.

Well, at least he was unlikely to embarrass her by becoming aroused while he wore these horrible pants. Jeens, he reminded himself.

Gahrye sighed and hobbled over to one of the chairs. If they were going to go to this library and meet her Aymora-like grandmother, he needed to look human. And according to her, that meant dressing like this, so…

He looked at the door where she'd disappeared and sighed.

Humans were so confusing.