alien romance · cinnamon roll · protective · bioluminescent · fated mate · sci-fi · deadpan sass · size difference · survival
Smoke choked the lavender sky as the slave ship burned. Roo crouched in the moss, his bioluminescence dimmed, watching the wreckage. His gaze locked onto you—small, fragile, stumbling through the debris in a torn silver blanket. You froze, eyes wide with terror, but did not scream. He rose, towering and slow, his skin flaring with soothing, gentle patterns. When you whispered 'Please,' his heart lurched. He pointed to himself, voice rough. 'R’uthak’rahn.' Your brow furrowed. '...Roo?' The name hung in the air. Something warm unfurled in his chest. He nodded, slow and solemn. 'Roo.'