A slam from the front door awoke Vyrsa from her slumber, where she—on order from Bobby, the reigning queen of the apartment—had been digesting the information from the books she ate earlier. Now she had a basic grasp of the subjects of Advanced Algebra, Java Programming, and Game Of Thrones. That last book had been a quite heavy meal, but it had been worth it as she now had a full understanding of the politics of Westeros—a landmass of this planet?—which she was sure would come in handy when navigating this new world.

Hopefully, Tristan had the rest of the books in the series as well—because she'd noted before she dug her teeth into the cover that this was part one—because she was invested in the harrowing story at this point and couldn't wait to find out how it all ended! The history of this planet sure was fascinating, and very dragon-filled. This was surprising considering that dragons usually never strayed from the upper echelons of the universe. Hopefully, the white walker problem of the North was dealt with by now though.

"Mroww." Bobby jumped down from her throne, toppling a few pillows in the process. The feline didn't even look back as the downy squares bounced against the floor. It was obviously beneath her to clean up after herself.

"Hi there, kitty cat," the earthling, who had introduced himself as Tristan earlier, greeted his ruler. "Did you behave while I was gone?"

This was obviously a silly question. Surely, even earthlings knew that cats never behaved, but were also never chastised for their crimes on account of their endearing appearances. Beings all over space were all too aware of this, sighing over fabric torn by kitty claws and water glasses spilled by errant paws while still scratching their overlords' chins and rubbing their fluffy bellies.

Vyrsa stuck her head over the top of the comfortable sitting sections she'd been sleeping on to observe the interaction. Noticing that her hair had unsculpted itself, she pulled her fingers through it, letting the nails shape it back into its usual fanciful shape. Ornate hairstyle with bulbous forms that balanced atop one's head was the latest fashion on Isola, and Vyrsa wouldn't be caught dead with her hair flat, not even here, in the outskirts of the universe.

Tristan jumped backward at the sight of her as if he'd seen a monster. And perhaps she was to him, even if he appeared more handsome than fearsome to her. But the apparent fear in his eyes still stung a bit.

"So-sorry," he stuttered, after regaining his composure. "I forgot you were here, Vyrsa. Your hair is quite... impactful." He pointed at the wall behind her, which made her realize that the way the light from the hallway hit the grand creation on her head resulted in a beast-like shadow.

So it wasn't her who was the monster. It was just her hair. Or rather the shape of it.

"Sorry," she apologized, sensing her face sparkling in shame. She could never hide her embarrassment. The increased glitter effects always revealed her innermost thoughts. "I didn't mean to scare you."

The fear on Tristan's face became replaced by wonder and he cautiously moved closer. "You really do sparkle," he said. "I thought I just imagined before. In fact, I kind of convinced myself while I walked back that you couldn't possibly have been real. I figured I would walk back in here and you would be gone. And I would wonder forever if you were actually real."

"Are you disappointed?" she asked, feeling like maybe she'd outstayed her welcome.

"Are you kidding?" Tristan slung his long legs over the armrest of the couch and sat down on it, right beside Vyrsa. Meanwhile, Bobby jumped onto one of the fallen pillows, which were now scattered around the floor, filling the apartment with a loud purr as she rolled up into a fluffy ball. "This is the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me," Tristan assured Vyrsa. "I mean, this is what guys like me dream of."

"Guys like you?" Vyrsa lifted her eyebrow, which of course glittered like the rest of her. She hoped this didn't mean Tristan was part of some kind of alien-hunting militia or something. Because the Council of Alien Culture's intel on this planet was obviously quite outdated, so she really had no clue where they were in their evolution. She remembered reading a pamphlet about Earth during her schooling and it didn't even mention Robert's Rebellion.

"Nerds, I guess..." Tristan looked down while he talked as if this was something embarrassing to admit. Although his face didn't appear to sparkle in shame like hers. But she did detect a light reddish tint to his bronze-colored skin, so perhaps that was how humans blushed?

Not that she understood why he was blushing, as the word he just had spoken didn't make sense to her. It appeared to be untranslatable by the device in her suit.

Probably noticing her immense confusion, Tristan explained "Like people who enjoy delving deep into certain subjects."

Vyrsa could relate to this, as she'd ever since she was very young eagerly indulged in every book on the history of the universe that she could find. She loved to read about ancient explorers of time and space and all the millions of civilizations that had formed within it, each unique in their own mysterious way. And she was, of course, a huge fan of the glorious game of squidball, just like every other citizen of Isola. So maybe she was a "nerd" as well?

"I'm mostly into chess, quiz games, and sci-fi movies," Tristan added with an enthusiastic smile. Vyrsa noted that he had dimples when he smiled, which was obviously an interesting observation for purely scientific reasons. Who knew that humans could have dimples?

Despite having no idea what any of the words the beaming boy next to her had spoken meant, Vyrsa nodded encouragingly. Because she wanted him to keep smiling like that, for purely scientific reasons.

Fourteen beats of time later, Vyrsa knew everything about queens and pawns, buzzers and multiple-choice questions, and Star Wars and Star Trek. She didn't understand the difference between the last two entities, or what they had to do with stars as nothing in them resembled anything she knew about such matters, but she was nonetheless enthralled.

Bobby yawned from her sleeping spot on the floor cushion. It appeared she was less fascinated by Tristan's avalanche of facts than Vyrsa. Perhaps Bobby had heard it all before. Vyrsa wondered if she should rebuild the appreciation pedestal again so the feline could be worshipped properly, but she decided against it since the cat appeared content where she snoozed currently, stretched out into a crescent shape. An Isolan kitty would never have been satisfied by such meager sleeping arrangements, but then each one of them did also have a twenty-person dedicated servant staff, tending to their fickle whims. In fact, a significant part of the Isolan planetary budget went into keeping the cat population appeased, because who knew which kind of antics they would stage otherwise?

"Am I boring you?" Tristan asked, halfway through an exposé on Ewok culture.

Vyrsa realized her gaze had been straying from his adorable dimples to the also-adorable cat, probably making her seem disinterested. Which was far from the truth. She just had a bit of trouble keeping up with all the interesting words. There were just so many of them. "No, no," she protested. "I love to hear you talk."

That was definitely true. Tristan's voice was pleasantly mellow, not constantly turned up to max like the tune of Isolan men, and his eyes lit up like falling stars when he spoke.

"Why don't you tell me about your home planet instead?" he asked. "I mean, why am I talking about fictional worlds when you can tell me about a real extraterrestrial world out there?" Tristan's eyes sparkled like a storm of cascading stars now. He was obviously very keen to know all about Isola, and Vyrsa couldn't wait to share the wonders of her dear home with him.

"Why don't I show you instead?" Vyrsa moved closer to her earthling host. Close enough to touch."Can I?" With nails sparkling in green like the oceans and purple like the sky, she reached her hand toward his cheek.

Despite confusion shading his amber eyes, Tristan gave her a nod of approval.

His skin felt like fine sand underneath her fingertips, silky but with a slightly rough edge, probably on account of Tristan not having time to groom this morning. Males of Vyrsa's species were also afflicted with scratchy chins in the same way. But that's where the similarities ended, as Tristan's skin wasn't chilly to the touch, instead, Vyrsa could sense warmth surging beneath her hold.

Letting her fingers slide upward, Vyrsa tapped lightly on Tristan's temple, allowing her wondrous world to stream into his consciousness.

Author's Note: And we're back! I had to take a slight break from this story as I finished my WIP Midnight Eclipse (a Viking romance with werebears and a time-traveling set on Greenland, if that sounds interesting, check it out on my profile!). But now that story is completed and I can whole-heartedly dive into this one—which I'm so excited about!—so expect more regular updates on the adventures of Tristan, Vyrsa, and Bobby throughout March (hopefully I can finish it within the month, as I like being ahead on ONC).