Chapter 3: Cold Feet

The great sunlamps that were embedded in the painted ceiling were already beginning to dim when they arrived at her front door. It was a fairly standard apartment as far as Miller could see, built into the white hull of the station like all of the residences to its left and right, sporting a few decorative planters here and there to add to the illusion that they weren’t on a giant space station. The major difference between this apartment and his own was the size of the door, eight-feet tall and twice as wide as a man. This was one of the Borealan residences that had been constructed for the massive influx of tourists and diplomats that the UNN had expected to arrive shortly following the species’ induction into the Coalition, but which had never materialized. Now these supersized apartments were left mostly vacant, the few Borealan denizens of the station who were not housed in the barracks were able to rent them for far cheaper than the crowded and sought after human equivalents.

She swiped her ID card at the door, and it opened with a whoosh, the wooden paneling only decorative as the metal covering slid into the wall. Kofe ducked inside, and he followed after her, the interior lights turning on automatically to illuminate a gigantic space.

Miller was a little jealous, it was a huge studio apartment, open-plan with only the bathroom and bedroom hidden behind their own dividing walls as far as he could see. It was large enough to fit his own apartment inside it twice over, as well as having a tall enough ceiling that even Kofe’s massive stature didn’t cause her to bump her head. It was lavishly furnished too, with seating and counters that were appropriately scaled up for Borealan use. The couch that sat in front of a large television that was embedded in the wall was so big that it could have easily served as a queen-sized bed.

“Nice place,” he commented, turning his head to look around as he followed her into the expansive room. As soon as he spoke, he noticed that his breath was visible, condensating due to the extreme cold that hit him like a wall. It was frigid in here, was there some kind of malfunction with her thermostat? It was like standing inside a meat locker. Kofe seemed to immediately relax, however, more at ease now that she was in an environment that more closely approximated that of her home.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, making her way over to the fridge. Miller noted that even though this apartment was built for Borealans, there was scarcely an inch of room to either side of her wide hips as she passed between the table and the kitchen counter.

“Oh, sure,” he replied. His teeth were already starting to chatter, and he had subconsciously crossed his arms in an attempt to ward off the cold.

“I have raises the hair, soda, fruit juice.”

“What’s raises the hair?” Miller asked.

“A Borealan drink, you want to try some? It’s low alcohol, kind of like human wine.”

“Yeah, sure.”

She retrieved a bottle of pink liquid from the fridge and collected two glasses from a shelf above the counter. It was so strange to Miller, like he was standing on the set of a forced perspective movie, everything was blown up in size. It was messing with his perception, his brain seemingly unable to decide whether the room was too large, or if he had shrunken down to the size of a toddler.

Kofe walked back over to him, gesturing that he should sit on the massive couch, and he hopped up onto it like a child trying to climb into a booster seat. She set the bottle and the two cups down on the glass coffee table, itself as high as the average office desk. Miller sat on the edge of the sofa, feeling foolish as his legs dangled in the air.

His fluffy host sat down beside him, the cushions sagging beneath her and pulling him towards her, like a representation of a black hole on a two-dimensional grid. His face planted into her shoulder before he had a chance to right himself, her fur tickling his nose. As he tried to climb free, she curled her arm around him, trapping him in a one-armed hug. Miller slowly ceased his struggling as he realized that her body heat was staving off the oppressive cold.

“Well aren’t you eager?” Kofe chuckled, peering down at him with a salacious look in her eye. “I’ve barely had time to get comfortable, and you’re already throwing yourself at me. At least you took me out to dinner first, I’ll give you that.”

“I didn’t do either of those things,” Miller complained, his voice muffled as she pressed his head into the side of her bosom with her bicep and headlocked him. “I just fell into you.”

“Uhuh, and you can beat a Royal Flush with four Aces, right?”

She released him, chuckling heartily as he straightened his hair, then she leaned forward and began to pour the pink liquid from the bottle into the two glasses. They could scarcely be described as such, they were the size of beer steins. He examined the label on the bottle, but it was all Borealan script, what looked like claw marks arranged in patterns. She filled one of the giant glasses with the beverage, handing it to Miller who gave it an experimental sniff.

“Smells like fruit punch,” he said, lifting it to his lips and taking a sip. It tasted pretty good. It didn’t pack much of a punch due to the low alcohol content, and it had a flavor that reminded him of red berries. He took another, longer draw from the glass as Kofe watched him with a smile on her face.

“I forgot that you humans drink alcohol like it’s going out of style.”

“Don’t Borealans?” Miller asked, struggling with the heavy glass as he took another drink from it.

“No, we can’t handle much alcohol. The quantities that you little guys consume it in are poisonous to us. One of your shots would send us to the hospital.”

“So what’s in this?”

“Raises the hair is made from fermented berries, it’s only two or three percent alcohol. That’s enough to get us quite drunk if we consume enough of it in one sitting.”

“Do you have to import it from your home planet?”

“Oh yes,” she replied, pausing to take a drink before continuing. “We experimented with making our own in Siberia, but we were advised not to introduce alien plant life into the local ecosystem. The native berries don’t quite ferment in the same way. It’s a shame, I think the berries would grow well in the Taiga, it’s very temperate.”

“The Taiga is temperate?” Miller laughed. “Maybe for you. It’s almost uninhabitable for humans.”

“I know,” she replied, “that’s why we colonized it. We have a whole city now, and the population is exploding due to the favorable conditions. The environment that we lived in back on Borealis was more similar to your Arctic territories, Siberia is fertile and hospitable in comparison.”

“And how does a human apartment compare to your housing back in Russia?”

“It lacks the rustic charm of a hut erected with one’s own hands,” she said as she glanced about the room. “But the Pinwheel is very accommodating. It’s a shame to see so many of these apartments sit empty. The Equatorials are only interested in fighting. I doubt you’ll see many tourists from Elysia or Rask showing up to learn about the galaxy and to broaden their minds, but when the new generation of Polars begins to mature, I’m sure that many of these dwellings will become occupied.”

“Sounds like you don’t think much of Equatorials,” Miller laughed, leaning forward and setting his glass down on the oversized coffee table. The drink was quite tasty, but there was far too much for him to consume in a single sitting.

“You try sharing a planet with them for a few thousand years,” she chided, “then we’ll see what you think of them.”

Miller shivered conspicuously, wrapping his arms around himself as he exhaled a plume of mist. His yellow overalls were woefully insufficient for keeping him warm. He didn’t even think he owned any cold weather clothes anymore, the station was climate controlled. The only time that he ever encountered temperatures below what was comfortable was when he was marching along the outside of the hull in a space suit.

“Sorry,” Kofe said, “I like to keep the apartment cool. It’s still a little toasty for my liking, but this is as low as the thermostat will go.”

“It’s freezing,” Miller complained. Kofe reached over and nudged him with her elbow to get his attention, Miller scowling up at her as she patted the cushion between them with her heavy hand.

“You can scooch a little closer you know, I’m plenty warm.”

He recalled her forceful bear hug back in the fast food restaurant, how incredibly warm and soft her body had been. He knew exactly what she was doing, however, he had quickly cottoned on to her tactics. This was probably all part of some elaborate scheme to get him into her arms.

At this rate he was going to get frostbite, so he didn’t have much of a choice. She smirked at him as she saw his scowl deepen, somehow knowing that he had changed his mind just by reading his expression.

“Alright,” he grumbled, “but only because I’m freezing my ass off. Don’t read into this, I’m not doing it because I like you.”

“I would never attempt to misinterpret your actions,” she said with a toothy grin. “Now come here, you’ll catch your death.”

He reluctantly shuffled closer to her, but almost the moment that he began to move, Kofe reached out and hooked him with her long arm again. She dragged him closer, wrapping her arm around him and pushing his head into the side of her ample bosom. His face sank into her malleable fat, her soft fur separated from his cheek by naught but an insubstantial barrier of thin fabric in the form of her stretched t-shirt. The heavy globe was large enough that it not only encompassed his head, but spilled down over his shoulder too. Even what little of its weight was resting on him was enough to squash him down into the couch, it felt like a rucksack full of bricks had been slung across his shoulder. How did she even walk with these things?

That wonderful scent assailed him once again, worming its way into his brain and clouding his judgment. She smelled so undeniably feminine, her taste in perfumes and soaps mirroring that of her human counterparts.

Almost immediately the aura of heat that her body radiated warmed him, the chill air seeming to recede. It was such a stark contrast, reminding him of coming in from the snow as a child and taking a seat in front of a roaring fire, a cup of hot cocoa in hand. She warmed him in the same way that a hot drink did, the sensation similar to the feeling of a warm beverage sliding down one’s throat and filling their belly. It permeated him to the core, relieving and somehow calming.

“We can stay like this for a while,” she whispered, her voice low and husky. “Isn’t it comfortable?”

His body instinctively sought out heat to warm itself, and her perfumed scent was so inviting. His hand brushed against the silky fur of her thigh, and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander, imagining what being engulfed in that soft coat would feel like.

“You can touch me if you want to,” she said, her warm breath blowing his hair. “I don’t mind. Wrap your arms around me, get in close...”

Miller awoke as if from a dream, pushing away from her as his head seemed to clear of the fog that had fallen over it. He allowed her to keep her arm draped about his shoulders, leaning his body against hers for warmth, but he was intent on wresting control of the situation from his furry companion. He couldn’t be seduced so easily, to allow himself to be plied by such an obvious trick would cost him his self-respect.

“Don’t get any big ideas,” he grumbled, shifting his weight as she peered down at him. “I’m just cold is all.”

She seemed taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor, perhaps wrongly assuming that she had finally broken him. But instead of disappointment, he saw excitement in her expression. It was if the more he resisted her, the more she wanted him.

“Actually, I have to get up pretty early for work tomorrow,” Miller said. “I’d better get some sleep.”

Kofe seemed disappointed, but she didn’t press the issue, releasing him from her grasp to shiver as he sat beside her.

“If you insist. You can take the couch, it’s plenty large enough for you. I’d offer you my bed as a courtesy, but the couch is too small for me to sleep on comfortably. My bedroom is in there,” she added, pointing towards a door with her clawed finger.

“Yeah, I don’t need to know that.”

“Well if you need anything, come find me,” she said with a toothy grin. “My door is always open to you.”

“Duly noted,” he grumbled. She stood and began to walk away, drink in hand. Miller climbed up to peer over the tall headrest of the couch and called after her.