Kiss the Stranger

The languid afternoon sunlight had streamed into the hut through the window. Rikal, dozing fitfully, looked just as always, and there I was, crouched before my workbench threading my needle—and even the Stranger, pressed against my back, was exactly the same as ever.

No sooner had I finished my meal than this happened. The moment I’d cleared away, the Stranger had thrown his arms around me and followed me right to the workbench. I might as well have left him be—any attempt to shoo him away guaranteed he’d be back in moments—so now he sat there as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Oh, him again.
No matter how often it happened, having him settle himself between my legs, his thighs splayed wide, and pressing his back against mine never felt familiar. Once more, as his hand fumbled at my waist, I nearly botched my stitching. I gave him a sharp look.

“Didn’t I tell you not to touch me while I’m working?”
“My hand just slipped.”
I’d lost count of how many times I’d heard that excuse. The Stranger always told barefaced lies with the most innocent expression, insisting there’d been no intent—though anyone could see what he was doing. Without proof, I had no retort, so I sighed and focused on my work again.

Ha.
I felt his breath on the nape of my neck. A shiver ran down my spine, and the Stranger seized the chance to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me closer. Defeated, I forced a wry smile, reached one hand behind me, and patted his head in a half-hearted “there, there.” The Stranger stilled, but only for a moment—then he let out a soft, “Ow,” and bit my neck. I scolded him more firmly this time.
“Stop it. If you keep this up, I’ll fall behind—then I’ll have to work all through the night.”

At last, the Stranger withdrew his teeth and rested his forehead against my shoulder. My heart went out to him, but I forced myself not to soften. If I did, I’d be swept away all over again—and then I really couldn’t spare a moment’s rest. I turned back to my loom, and he behaved himself, waiting for me to finish as obediently as a giant dog. A smile tugged at my lips.
“Ah!”
Startled by Rikal slipping between my legs, I let out an involuntary exclamation. I felt the Stranger tense behind me, but I ignored it and used my free hand to stroke Rikal’s head and chin.
“Bored, were you, Rikal?”

Rikal began to purr and closed his eyes in contentment. I smiled at his calm satisfaction.
“You really love cats, don’t you?”
The Stranger broke in from behind. I let the words trail off.

“Huh? Oh…”
Do I? I like dogs too, but I’ve never had the chance to keep one. As I turned that over in my mind, he spoke again.
“If I were a cat, do you think you’d like me more or Rikal?”

“What? What are you talking about…?”
I managed a weak laugh—“You’re human, after all”—but then the Stranger shifted. Suddenly he braced his hands on the floor and knelt, fixing me with expectant eyes.
“Well? Tell me.”

Taken aback, I blinked. He took another step and made a soft sound:
“Meow.”

My hand stilled at Rikal’s throat. But that wasn’t all. The Stranger flopped onto his back, stretched out in full view. Rikal often did this, but I never expected him to. His gaze was hungry, predatory, like a great cat’s—leopard or jaguar, even a tiger. His eyes gleamed unnervingly.

My spine tingled. Yet he just waited, watching me. If I didn’t treat him at least as well as I treated Rikal, he wouldn’t remain still. Reluctantly, I set aside my needle and lifted Rikal, placing him down to one side, then crawled forward on my knees to the Stranger. He lay there, limbs bent like a feline, his head tilted as he watched me.
…
Silence pressed in around us. I hovered over him, paused. With Rikal, I wouldn’t hesitate—I’d scratch under his chin and stroke his head, and he’d purr, eyes closing in bliss. Almost of my own accord, I raised my hand and brought it to the Stranger’s jaw. I caught the flash of his movement and felt his fingers curl in my hair, drawing me closer. I closed my eyes.

His lips brushed mine softly, then pressed more insistently. Tentatively, I probed with my tongue; he parted his lips to welcome it. As we shared a wet, urgent kiss, my thoughts of work evaporated. Nothing else existed. His hand slid from my hair to the back of my neck, sending another shiver through me. I felt him smile against my lips. My cheeks burned, but I didn’t pull away. Growing bolder, I traced my tongue beneath his, and his hand slipped under my shirt to stroke my shoulder. Clothes fell away naturally, and he followed the line of my exposed skin with his arm, capturing my wrist in a firm grip.
“…Yohan.”
His whisper slipped between parted lips. I peered at him through half-lidded eyes, and he spoke again.
“I love you.”

…
For a moment I didn’t register the words. I only blinked at him, motionless. Then he went on.
“I love you. I want to be with you… forever.”

His voice was heated as he leaned closer. Somewhere beyond my returning awareness, he said,
“Let’s leave this place together, Yohan.”
That jolted me fully awake. He saw my wide eyes and stiff posture and frowned.

“Yohan, what’s wrong? Did I say something strange?”
An anxious note entered his voice. But I had no words. My lips parted, but no sound came. I finally forced myself to sit up.
“…My ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) work.”

Even to my own ears, my voice sounded odd. I forced the words out.
“It’s too late. I have to finish this….”
Without waiting for his response, I turned away. I sat back at the workbench, picked up my needle and thread, and began to weave. He didn’t say a word, but the intensity of his gaze pressed into my skin.

He must think I’m acting strangely. I know I am—but what else can I say?
I can’t leave. I have to stay hidden here, forever.
My uncle said he’d call when the situation improved.

But when? How long must I wait?
It can’t happen. I’ll die alone here. I’ll never go outside.
I’m an omega.

If the Stranger wanted to leave, I’d see him off willingly. I’ll weave tapestries and buy a camel—prepare everything so he can go freely.

And I’ll be alone again.
A sudden heat stung my eyes, but I couldn’t wipe away the tears. I steeled myself against them and felt his unwavering gaze on me.
Days passed with no outward change. I worked all day, cooked when it was time, and the Stranger helped—gathering fruit or pacing the perimeter—passing the hours.

Fortunately, he didn’t say “I love you” again. I was quietly relieved and pretended not to notice. As before, he kissed me often and held me until I fell asleep. I never refused or reproached him—I accepted everything. Soon he’ll leave this place. Then I’ll miss it all. Thinking that, I craved his kisses and warmth so desperately I couldn’t imagine refusing. And so time slipped by.
That morning I woke feeling unusually heavy-eyed. When I stirred, the Stranger curled around me. I lay quietly, holding my breath. My body felt too weighed down to rise. Maybe I should just rest today… I thought vaguely, when he pressed kisses to my neck and shoulders. He repeated that soft brushing of his lips every dawn, but this time each touch burned like fire.
Strange.

I thought, dazed.
…Strange.
I turned my head slightly. The Stranger, who had been kissing my nape, lifted his eyes. Our gazes met; he bowed his head. His careful breath touched mine as he parted his lips. Just as he was about to kiss me, an unfamiliar sound cut through the air. We both froze and listened. The rumble grew unmistakable: a car engine.

“Who…?”
I murmured before I knew it. Ghurab wasn’t due for days. No one should be coming here—who could it be?
A bad feeling spurred me to sit up, and I stumbled. The Stranger caught me at once, drawing me into his arms.

“You okay?”
His worried voice brought me back. I nodded, slipped from his hold, and planted my feet on the floor. Still dizzy, I made my way to the window and saw a car speeding along the ridgeline toward us.
…?

At first I couldn’t see clearly. The driver looked both familiar and strange. But the direction of that car made one thing clear: it was coming for me.
“Kamar, wake up.”
I hurried back to the sleeping mat and shook him.

“Get under here and stay until I tell you to come out. Promise me—you won’t budge, right?”
The Stranger frowned but didn’t move. Desperation made me shove him, but he stayed rooted.
“Please, Kamar.”

My pleading face finally twisted him into motion. Muttering something low, he crouched and disappeared beneath the mat. I hastily gathered the cloth and draped it over the bed so no one could see him. Once more I checked, then stooped to look beneath the folds.
“Don’t come out. Ever.”
“…I won’t.”

He answered reluctantly. I nodded, straightened up, and swept a final glance around. The engine noise was nearly on top of us.
Who on earth…?
I stepped outside, and the car came to a halt not far off. The driver’s door swung open, and when I saw the man step out, I understood why he seemed both familiar and new.

“Hey, you’re still alive, huh?”
Grinning, he approached. I stood my ground and looked up. He was Salman—my uncle’s son, my cousin.