Chapter 42: Her Favorite Place Was Becoming a Problem

The extra day did not require an immediate decision, which was what Dove told herself while staring at the place where her sleeve touched Thorne’s. Her body had apparently taken a separate vote about where it preferred to sit.

She moved away when she needed to stand, and he let the contact end without trying to keep it. That made it easier to ask whether he wanted coffee while she closed the display for a short break.

"You don’t have to keep feeding me," he said.

"It’s one cup split between two people. Try not to retire on my generosity."

Behind the tarp, she bought a six-coin sachet, reducing sixteen normal coins to ten, and used the last half of the powdered milk packet. The packet and sachet were empty afterward. She divided the drink between her chipped mug and the lidded cup, then brought both to the bench.

Sprout confirmed that both Day Seventeen missions remained complete and no additional sales reward was waiting. Dove told it she had asked for the coffee shelf, not an annual performance review. It closed the mission summary, which she counted as personal growth.

Thorne took the smaller portion only after she chose the cups herself. They sat with a little space between them, watching workers carry sealed food crates toward household stores while the visitors remained beyond their assigned boundary.

"Full stores, hot meals, and I still catch myself saving the last bite like I’ll never see another," she said. "My brain apparently refuses to read the inventory."

"I still have enough spaghetti for more breakfasts," Thorne answered. "And rice, meat, beans. We can talk about the sharing part without pretending it’s the last food in the base."

Dove thought about how different those two problems felt when she was the person waiting to be given a bowl. She had mistaken unwillingness for absence more than once because both left her hungry in exactly the same way.

"I want enough of my own that one person’s bad mood can’t decide whether I eat," she said.

"I know," he said. "You want to be able to choose."

"I don’t mean I never want anyone helping. I mean I want help to stay something I can accept instead of something I have to survive."

Thorne turned the cup between his hands. "Then tell me when I get that wrong."

She looked at him for a moment. "You have to keep trying to notice too. I can’t manage both of us."

"I can do that," he said, without making the promise grander than the work.

Kael stopped near the bench to ask whether she had decided about Hale’s offer. Dove told him she was still reading the terms, then asked whether he thought the room was real.

"Probably," he said. "That doesn’t tell me whether the rest is good for you."

"You could just say you don’t want to lose your convenient cloth supplier."

His smile was brief. "I would miss the cloth supplier. I would also miss some of the conversations. I’m still trying to understand the woman having them."

The honesty hurt less this time because he had not hidden the warmth behind it. Dove thanked him for the answer, and he left when the clinic attendant called, returning to work without turning the moment into a promise.

Ash had been waiting near the duty table. His eyes followed Kael back to the clinic, then returned to Dove’s cup and Thorne’s matching one. She could almost watch him decide which part annoyed him most.

"You shouldn’t make promises to Terminal before their departure terms are clear," he said.

"I haven’t. I’ve been asking for clearer terms while you were busy counting my visitors."

He looked at her sharply. "That’s not what I’m doing."

"Then you’re naturally gifted at something you don’t even practice."

Thorne lowered his cup, hiding his mouth behind its rim. Ash noticed, which did not improve the conversation. He said the road decision belonged to the watch and walked away before Dove could explain that she had not personally applied to control the weather.

She finished her coffee, cleaned both cups with ordinary water, and returned them to the shelf. The lidded cup remained hers.

She returned the final consignment candle and paid one normal coin, leaving nine normal and thirty-two Favor. Both missions stayed complete; the return fee did not erase earned progress. She liked being able to lend something without losing track of who owned it, particularly in a place where a scarf apparently needed a relationship discussion.

Thorne brought out a small folded piece of canvas before leaving for his final work round. It was a cover he had stitched for the price board, using a spare section traded from his own kit. The seams were crooked in one corner, and he pointed that out before she could find it.

"It’ll keep the papers dry," he said. "If you want it."

Dove ran her thumb over the uneven seam. She had spent years watching people demand flawless goods while treating the person behind the counter like damaged packaging. The little repaired corner made her want to be very careful with her answer.

"I want it," she said. "You don’t have to apologize for the part that proves you made it."

His gaze stayed on her hand. She stepped closer because she chose to, stopping where he could see her coming, and rested her forehead briefly against his upper arm.

He went completely still. His free hand lifted a little, then waited until she said he could put it against her back. The touch stayed light, nowhere near her tail or the gate, and she felt herself breathe without checking the hall for a moment.

"Just a minute," she murmured. "Don’t make it weird."

"I’m trying very hard not to breathe wrong."

She laughed against his sleeve, embarrassed and relieved and more tired than she had admitted all day. When she stepped away, he let his hand fall at once, his golden eyes following her face with an expression she would probably remember at an extremely inconvenient hour.

Before closing, Varek brought Hale’s final offer. The transport clause now included a seat on the next return run if she chose to leave Terminal, but the page also requested a meeting with Ash before departure.

Dove read the final line beneath her own name. Hale had asked to discuss moving her household, even though she had not agreed to move herself.