I sit on the edge of my seat, watching as a group of Plutonian's arrange my belongings into the various compartments designated to me.

After trying to get me to eat something and failing miserably, Lucian had given up and gone out somewhere.

I didn't want to be rude but I was still full from my meal with Cassandra and Stela and my stomach was in knots, unsure of what to expect tonight. Judging by the rows of books and printed papers that lined the walls of his study, I knew I did not make a mistake by choosing to stay with Lucian but there was this feeling of trepidation brewing deep in my belly that I couldn't seem to shake off.

Lucian seemed too nice, too welcoming. It was highly suspicious for a Plutonian to be kind to a human. I hadn't spent enough time here to discover if Asta and the other fighters were treated like this as well.

Were they invited to dinners and given drinks that tasted sweeter than any honey on Earth? Were they told the words 'please' and 'thank you', words I haven't heard since I was seven years old?

I rub my face in my hands and am thankful when I hear the door shut and silence ensues.

I open my eyes and suddenly feel like I am seeing Lucian's room for the first time. My eyes flit to all corners of the dimly lit ceiling, looking for the camera's we have in our dorm rooms.

I don't see anything, but I will not make the mistake of putting anything past a Plutonian. The only fact that gives me some reassurance is that Lucian admitted to the staff hearing sounds coming from this room at night. Which means no one has seen what happens here, which I deduce means no cameras recording us.

I briefly wonder why Lucian never thought of recording himself in order to keep his secrets to himself and then question if I will ever be brave enough to ask him.

Blood thumps in my ears as I realize I am alone in his room, unsupervised. The pulsing beats remind me of the seconds I'm wasting till Lucian's return.

My knees feel like jelly as I get up and slowly make my way to his study. It is darker here, with only the fading blue lights from the lamps illuminating certain sections of the tall walls that extend to the ceiling.

I look around for light switches hidden in nooks or corners I might have missed but see nothing. Is Lucian's suit the only thing that can light up this place?

I almost groan in frustration when a picture on one of the papers shines in the blue light, catching my eye.

I glance behind at his room door and then walk towards it. A lump forms in my throat when I see a row of lines arranged parallel to each other, joined by horizontal lines at their edges, connecting them and forming small boxes.

I am afraid to touch it, but I pull it out slightly so that I am able to read the small miniscule words that mark the centre of each box. One box says boarding, the other says disinfection, the one next to it 'control'.

It has to be a floor plan. But a floor plan of what?

I am about to pull it out further when a voice makes me jump back sending jolt of fear up my spine.

"You like to read?" There is a tinge of curiosity in his tone but Lucian's voice is sharp, making me wonder if I am about to be punished.

I stare at the outline of his shadow and as he moves towards me the lights around us switch on. I have to blink a few times to adjust to the harsh glare of the white lights above and then my eyes focus on Lucian's face.

He is scrutinizing my expression like he did last night at the introductory dinner causing me to shiver. Will he see the fear in my eyes or the guilt in my face?

I expect him to hit me, burn my skin with a laser gun, or lock me in a cell. What I don't expect is for him to stop right in front of me with our chests almost touching. His fingers touch the paper I was holding, his eyes briefly skimming over the floor plans.

"I doubt you'd be able to read let alone understand this. Are you allowed to read books in your quarters?" His cool breath fans my face and his proximity makes me uncomfortable but his steely eyes hold me in place, daring me to take a step back.

"We are taught to read so that we may understand our pledge to the Plutonians but our learning is limited to basic words and pictures of army generals and creatures that exist on Pluto," I explain hesitantly. What I don't tell him is how I stole my senior's books and studied them at night, making sense of words I've never heard before.

He raises his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth lift slightly. "They never taught you not to use the words army generals and creatures in the same sentence?"

My cheeks burn as I realize my mistake and this time I take a step back and stare at the floor. "I apologize."

"There's no need for that," He waves a hand at me dismissively. "Your obvious hatred for my kind is what made me choose you in the first place."

"I do not hate your kind," I reiterate quickly. It worries me how easily he can see through me. "Why would I sacrifice my life to join the Plutonian army if I hate them?"

He leans in, invading my comfort zone once again, his eyes filled with intimidation and wonder.

"I don't know, you tell me," He says.

I open my mouth to speak but his penetrating gaze renders me speechless. My eyes fall on the white crystal dangling by his ear, it catches the white lights above and shines brilliantly.

When he sees this, his eyebrows knit together in a small frown and he leans back. He walks away from the library and I follow him without question.

"You may read the books I give you, but you are not allowed to touch that section of the library," He points to the shelf I had been looking at. "Those papers are highly classified and only my fingerprints are authorized to touch them. If you touch them again, I will be immediately notified. Oh, and the floors there have motion sensors as well so I will be able to track your foot prints to each shelf."

My heart sinks to my stomach at his words, this was going to be harder than I thought. My hands itch at the thought of touching those papers again, something highly classified meant something I might be able to use.

"There is a change of clothes for you in the bathroom, if you'd like to freshen up for bed," He instructs as he walks over to large white closet next to his bed.

He touches a drawer gently and it slides open. He then takes out a black shirt and throws it on the bed.

I am about to walk to the bathroom when he lifts his shirt over his head and exposes the top half of his body.

In the dormitories the girls and boys sleep in separate rooms so I have never seen a boy this....exposed. His arms and chest are broad and curved, like the sculptures I saw in his house foyer. My eyes travel down to the lines that divide his stomach and abdomen into compartments. Each compartment bulges out and then sinks in as he breathes.

There are a few bruise marks on his back and chest, but other than that his skin is smooth and fair, like stone marble.

He takes the shirt in his hands but instead of wearing it, he holds it and pauses for a while.

I quickly rush to the bathroom and shut the door before he catches me staring. I lean against the door and catch my reflection in the large mirror before me.

My eyes widen when I notice the deep blush in my cheeks and I realize that this is the most alive I have looked in years.

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