Presa was horrified by Sia’s story, both for the terrible injury she’d suffered, and for her apparent wish to have died rather than woken up.

 

“You can’t mean that, Sia. Please tell me you don’t.” 

 

“I’ve been to therapy since then,” Sia replied. 

 

Presa didn’t think that was much of an answer, and her expression must have given that away. 

 

“I told you how I felt about being pitied. This...it was a thousand times worse! To be treated as if I’d become too fragile to play, to perform, to do the thing that gave me life!”  Sia’s voice rose as she stood again, and the passion in her made Presa’s sap do funny things in her trunk. 

 

“My record label told me I couldn’t do the final stops of the tour due to ‘health risks’,” Sia spat. The way she spoke put Presa in mind of something bitter and toxic. “They arranged for a berth back to the best cardiac rehab facility they could find, and six months later I decided to move to TC. The gravity is good for me - but it also places less stress on my heart.”

 

Presa hummed softly with understanding. “You have obviously begun to play again.”

 

Sia nodded. “As far as my cardiologist is concerned I’m a perfectly healthy woman - except for everything else that’s wrong with me.” 

 

Presa couldn’t stop herself from chuckling. “That must have been very comforting.”

 

Sia’s lips quirked up for a moment. “Yes, I was impressed with his bedside manner. But he’s one of the best, and he’s unflinchingly honest. It helped.”

 

Presa nodded, and considered what she’d learned.

 

“I...have to admit that I don’t know a lot about living with a human. Or even other Affini. As I’ve worked on my compositions and refined my techniques, I tend to...fixate.” 

 

Sia looked at her with such a focused curiosity that Presa almost missed that funny feeling again. 

 

“Part of why I’ve never seriously considered taking a Floret before is my tendency to neglect myself, and I worry I might not be able to make sure someone under my care would have what they need. But...you seem to do quite well on your own.”

 

Sia sank back into the chair with a bemused frown. “Thank you, I think.” 

 

“It’s a compliment, really! I meant it to be…” Presa sighed, and barely resisted the urge to flop back on the mattress. “I’m sorry. I am terrible at this.” 

 

“Compared to some of the other Affini I have met, I think you’re actually doing quite well.”

 

Presa blinked. “Really?”

 

“Really.” Sia moved to the bed to sit beside her, and Presa found herself relaxing a bit. “I prefer honesty. I’d rather be with someone who admits they don’t know the answers than someone who tries to bullshit through.” 

 

Presa let her hand rest by Sia’s leg, and smiled when Sia covered it with hers.

 

“Well, then. Since I do not know - what effect would living at a higher gravity have on you?”

 

“My heart would have to work a bit harder. My joints would be a bit more painful. I would probably have to adjust my medications to compensate.” 

 

Presa considered that. “I am assuming that if we decided to pair, you would insist on human formularies for your medication and humans handling your medical treatment?”

 

Sia gave a slow, solemn nod. “I will not give up my ability to make music for anyone. Not even you, Presa.”

 

Presa considered that. “If - and only if - xenodrug treatments advance to where you would suffer no loss of physical or mental dexterity, would you be willing to consider them for treating your pain?”

 

“I’d...consider it,” Sia admitted reluctantly. “I would want to speak to other recipients before I made that decision.”

 

“I think that could be arranged,” Presa said as calmly as she could. “Now - I have to ask if anyone has talked to you about implants?”

 

Sia tensed again. “I read about them. How they’re created using a combination of material from my...owner...and that it could be used to drug or control the host.”

 

Presa turned her hand so she could gently run her opposable digit over the back of Sia’s hand, and keep her voice low and soothing.

 

“That is a possible use for them, yes. But they are also meant to attune the implanted host to their owner - to help form a deeper connection between them.”

 

“You make it sound a bit like getting married,” Sia observed wistfully. 

 

Presa considered that. “I suppose that is a way to look at it. We don’t really have a religious component to it, but it is meant to help two become one.”

 

Sia gave an amused snort. “Or three, or four, or five...some of your people are very greedy.”

 

“With such wondrous creatures around us,” Presa answered with a smile, “it can be hard to show restraint.”

 

“You seem to know your limits, though.”

 

“You might say I gained some hard won experience,” Presa admitted. “I’m quite aware of my...eccentricities.”

 

Sia shifted until she was lying down on the bed, facing her. “Like taking a Floret who refuses to budge on so many things?”

 

Presa grinned. “I might even arrange for the rest of my possessions to be sent here. It would make that hypothetical Floret’s life much easier if she had access to comfortable gravity and the doctors she’s been working with, after all.”

 

Sia looked utterly stunned. “...are you joking with me?”

 

Presa shook her head, reaching out to gently run her vines out over Sia, doing her best to provide a comforting blanket. 

 

“I am entirely serious. I am not rooted to my homeworld, though I’m sure Daea would say otherwise. If you become my Floret, part of my responsibility is making sure you are happy, healthy, and able to be your best self. How would taking you away from this place do that?”

 

“I would adjust,” Sia said with the fierce determination that had captivated Presa earlier. “It’s what I do.”

 

She smiled back, and lightly stroked a tendril of vine over Sia’s cheek. “I don’t doubt it. But what if you didn’t have to?”

 

Sia closed her eyes, and seemed to visibly force herself to relax. “I like it here,” she finally admitted.

 

“I’m finding it quite pleasant, too.”

 

“I want to perform again.”

“I would enjoy that very much.”

 

“I want to learn more about your music.”

 

“I would like to do the same - but I need to warn you that if my earlier song affected you, others may, too.”

 

“Maybe...if it’s you...the more I can trust you...it wouldn’t be so bad.”

 

Some primal instinct in the back of Presa’s mind thrilled, and knew it would be so easy to prick her with a tiny barb of soporific or euphoric sap like this, but her conscious mind held tightly to that reflex and pushed it away.

“I do want you to keep seeking treatment, and to maintain your health.”

 

“Mmhmm.” 

 

Presa smiled. “So. You seem tired.”

“Pain’s like that,” Sia murmured. “Can we just...stay for a bit?”

Shifting herself around, Presa wrapped herself gently around her unofficial Floret, and placed a little kiss on Sia’s forehead. 

 

“Of course.”