Desire doesn't always scream.
Sometimes he learns to stay still.
Elián understood this as he sat in front of the observation panel, his hands clasped
and his back rigid, as if his body had decidedto freeze of his own volition. Kael appeared on the screen, standing motionless, under
theNeutral cell light. He wasn't doing anything extraordinary. He wasn't looking at
the camera. He wasn't moving more than absolutely necessary.
And yet, Elián felt it.
Not as an emergency. Not as anxiety. As
active waiting.
A week had passed since the last nighttime event, since that involuntary
synchronicity that had confirmed what they both feared: the bond was deepening
without their consent. Since then, Elián had redoubled his self-control. Less time
near the Kha'Reth sector. More reports. Greater visible distance.
But desire did not require proximity.It lived
under the skin.
During a routine medical session, Elián was assigned to remotely monitor Kael's
analysis. He was not to be physically present. He was not to interact.
Just observe.
"Initiating muscle assessment," a technician announced.
Kael obeyed every instruction with precision. He stretched his arms, flexed his legs,
maintained his balance. His body was a work of contained strength, of
power.regulated by pure will.
Elian swallowed hard.
The desire manifested as a dull pressure in the chest, an intense awareness of one's
own body. It wasn't hunger. It wasn't explicit lust.
It was recognition.
As if every movement of Kael awakened a memory that had not yet occurred.
"Dr. Rowe," the technician's voice called. "Any observations?"
Elian blinked.
"The muscle response is stable," he said. "Remarkable control. There are no signs
of latent aggression."It was
true. And
it wasn't.
Kael wasn't suppressing the aggression. He was transforming
it.That was new.
Kael also felt the wait.
Not as frustration, but as a silent accumulation. Their species did not
conceptualize desire in the same way as humans, but they understood anticipation,
the contained impulse, the conscious choice not to move forward.
Every time Elián appeared—even if only as a distant presence, like aA change in the
air—Kael felt that inner pull. He didn't follow it. He didn't reject it.
He maintained it.
It was a form of discipline.
But even discipline has its limits.
That night, Kael sat on the floor of his cell, his back straight and his hands resting
on his thighs. He closed his eyes and breathed. The shared rhythm appeared
immediately, soft and steady.
Elian was awake.
That was what her body was telling her.
Elián was standing in his room, the lights off. He had triedHe slept, but rest didn't
come. The desire had become too intense.
"I can't keep pretending this doesn't exist," he
murmured. He leaned against the wall and closed his
eyes.
Respite.
The pulse aligned.
Kael's presence was not intrusive. He didn't push. He didn't demand. He was
simply there.And that was harder to resist than any violent impulse.
The following day, the K-7 complex entered a state of moderate alert."Reorganization of protocols," Commander Hale announced. "Starting today, an
experimental cross-exposure phase will be implemented."
Elián felt his blood run cold.
"Cross-exposure?" a scientist asked.
"Controlled contact between subjects and authorized personnel," Hale replied. "We
need to evaluate real reactions, not just simulations."
Elian slowly raised his gaze.
"That increases the risk," he said. "Especially with Kael." Hale
stared at him.
—That's precisely why, Dr. Rowe. We want to see what happens when desire isn'tIt
can hide behind a wall.
The word hung in the air. Desire.
Elián understood the
message.It was not a
coincidence.
"Who will be in charge?" someone asked. Hale
barely smiled.
—You, Dr. Rowe.
Elian's stomach clenched.
"Under full supervision," she added. "Every move will be watched." Kael
received the news that same afternoon.
—You will participate in an exposure session— they informed him—. Eye contact
and proximity with a human.
Kael did not react immediately.
"Who?" he asked.
The soldier hesitated for a second.—Dr. Rowe.
Kael's pulse was altered for the first time in
days.No fear.
Expectation.
"Understood," he finally said.
But inside, her body was already preparing.
The exhibition hall was spacious, white, with no corners to hide in. A partial
containment field separated Kael and Elián, allowing proximity without direct
contact.
Cameras. Sensors. Observers behind glass.
Elián entered first. His breathing was controlled, but tense. He knew every
gesturewould be analyzed, interpreted, used.
When Kael entered from the opposite side, the air seemed to
change.They didn't look at each other immediately.
Desire learned to wait.
"Begin," Hale ordered over the
communicator. The containment field
shrank.
Kael looked up.
Elian did it at the same
time.The synchronization
was immediate.
The desire didn't explode. It condensed.
Elián felt the urge to move forward, to close the distance, to touch. But he
stayed.He was still. His body vibrated with a contained, dangerous energy.
Kael stepped forward.
The field hummed
softly.Their eyes met.Nothing else.
And yet, everything.
The sensors began to register changes: increased pulse, dilated pupils, heightened
neural activity. But there was no aggression. There was no loss of control.
There was a choice.
—Interesting—Hale murmured.
Kael bowed his head slightly, a gesture from his culture that was not submission,
but recognition.
Elián responded with a deep breath.The
desire transformed into something more
intense.
It wasn't urgent.
I was waiting.
"How are you feeling?" Hale asked through the
communicator. Elián took a second to respond.
—Conscious—he said—. Very conscious.
Kael didn't speak, but his posture said the
same thing.The containment field remained
stable.
Minute after minute, they both remained there, face to face, without touching,
without breakingthe distance.
Desire was learning.
She was learning that not every impulse needs immediate
gratification. She was learning that waiting can also be a form of
intimacy. Finally, Hale gave the order to end the session.
As the camp expanded and Kael was escorted out, Elián felt a pangunexpected in
the chest.
No relief.Loss.
That night, the synchronicity was more intense
than ever. There were no words. There were no
images.
Only bodies that remembered the proximity and held onto it like a dangerous
promise.Kael rested his forehead against the wall of his cell.
"This is going to break," he whispered. "Or it's going to
break us." Elián, in the darkness of his room, answered
voicelessly.
—I'm willing to wait… if you are.
The desire, suspended between them, did not
respond.But he stayed.
And that was
enough.For now.