Kitt waited until the sun rose pink over the mountain and he saw the one called Addy heading down the hillside to work.

Satisfied that everyone in the cabin was awake and alert, Kitt waited a few minutes, then headed down after her. He was anxious that Honey not think he was spying on her. She already had one spurned suitor for that purpose. Kitt was protecting her.

When he reached the pavilion he saw that Violet was already waiting for him, shading her face from the sun with her papers.

“Hey, Kitt,” she called to him happily.

“Hello, Violet,” he said, jogging up the steps of the pavilion.

She patted the bench next to herself.

“Take a load off, big guy,” she said. “Did you eat yet?”

Her word choice was odd, but he plopped down beside her. “I did not eat yet.”

“Cool,” she said. “I brought you a coffee.”

She pointed and sure enough there were two paper cups, steam issuing from the tiny openings at the tops.

“It’s Café con Leche,” she told him with a nod.

“Oh,” he replied, puzzling over her word choice.

“I Googled how they drink coffee in Andorra,” she explained. “I had the barista make it especially for you. I thought you might be feeling homesick.”

“Thank you,” he said, holding the offered cup and taking a small sip.

It tasted exactly like the hot bean juice they often made in the lab. He had never heard of it possessing any medicinal properties, although several of the lab workers did seem quite reliant on it.

He remembered not liking the bitter stuff when he had tried it before, but something about this cup seemed warm and nice after a chilly night out. The warmth that spread through his chest reminded him of the feeling that bloomed there when Honey had touched him.

“It’s perfect,” he declared.

“Sweet,” Violet nodded.

“No,” he said. “Not sweet at all, just right.”

“Um, yeah,” she said, fluffing her hair.

He had gotten something wrong, but she didn’t seem fussed by it. It must have been a small mistake.

“Wanna run lines?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said.

She grinned and handed him the pages.

He knew now that running lines did not mean running at all. He would read the male actor’s words and she the female’s.

Kitt liked the play. It did not have the poetic majesty of the complete works of William Shakespeare, but it had a spark of the same romance.

“My dear,” Kitt read carefully, “there is so much I must confess.”

“Your lordship, no,” Violet said, sounding aghast.

Kitt was sure she was a very good actress.

“Yes,” he read, “I insist. You’ve flown from me too many times.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, blinking at him.

The first time she had done that he’d been very concerned that she had something in her eyes, but she explained that it was a way to denote innocence. He still wasn’t sure it was effective.

“Oh, but I’m sure that you do,” he read. “Every morning I meet you here, every morning you smile at me with your kind eyes. Every morning I’m here by your side, talking with you about the weather and your health and your mother, and all I want to talk about is us.”

“There is no ‘us’,” Violet said sadly.

“But there should be,” Kitt said.

“I-I…” Violet trailed off. “That’s funny.”

Kitt looked down at his paper. None of those words were written on it.

He looked back up at Violet.

“Sorry, Kitt,” she laughed. “A woman just walked past and I swear she was staring at us. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll bet everyone stares at you.”

“What do you mean?” Kitt hoped she didn’t mean someone knew he was from Aerie.

“Well,” she blushed suddenly. “I just meant you’re a good-looking man.”

“Oh,” Kitt said, surprised. “Thank you. I was made that way.”

Oh dear, he had said too much. He was not supposed to share that his body had been lab-created specifically to attract Earth women.

“Aw,” she smiled. “That’s so sweet. I love a man who gives credit to his mama and daddy for his good qualities.”

Kitt smiled back, relieved. “I should go to work, I’m sorry my time was short this morning.”

“It was very helpful,” Violet declared.

“Thank you for the coffee,” he remembered, handing her back the pages the play was written on.

“It was my pleasure, I assure you,” she replied. “I hope it reminded you of home.”

Kitt could not think of anything less like the starlight he had absorbed on Aerie than the bean tea in the paper cup, but he nodded anyway, feeling a bit dishonest.

Violet nodded back.

Then she kissed him on the cheek.

Kitt was unsure what to make of her gesture. He decided that he should ask her, to avoid any confusion.

But Violet quickly walked past him and down the steps, carrying both coffee cups, the papers tucked in her pocket.

Maybe he would ask Honey instead.