Grazing The Sky

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Lance watched the Razalek nod.

"I am." English. Finally, someone who would understand him.

A dark hand was extended. "It's nice to meet you, Lance."

Lance slipped one hand in the pocket of his hoodie, extending the other one. "Likewise."

The smile he got in return was warm, friendly. Lance felt a little more at ease. But even still, it was a little nerve-wracking, not knowing what was to come.

Their hands let go of one another, and Zidane slid off the examination table, grabbing his shirt and jacket with one hand.

"All yours." The crossbreed grinned.

Lance twitched out a smile, stare going to the examination table. It looked like a regular doctor's, plastic sheet and all. Would this be just some kind of check-up?

Foreign language floated around him as Zidane slipped his shirt on again. Lance felt his mood deflate. Great, more words he couldn't understand. Zidane snapped his fingers, seeming to remember something, and said some words to Yittek. The Razalek nodded, responding as Zidane's jacket was zipped.

Ugh.

"I'm headed to the library," Zidane told Lance, whose heart leapt, hearing English. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Yeah, see you later." Lance nodded.

"Oh, wait." Zidane stopped walking after a handful of strides. Laughing, he spoke. "I'm so used to walking everywhere." His hands and arms outstretched, a materialized wind covering the parts of his body it touched. "I love the energy in this place, Yittek!"

In a matter of moments, he was gone. Yittek spoke, his voice soft with something Lance couldn't quite place.

"I know you do, Zidane."

The Razalek turned to Lance. Bowing, he extended one arm to the table.

"Shall we?"