"Alan? Why are you screaming?" I inquire. "Is this form that alarming to behold? I wanted to choose something that would blend in with the rest of the earthlings on this planet."

"Yeah—no! I think I need a gallon of eye bleach!" Alan shouts hoarsely, turning away and shielding his eyes. "You literally look and sound like a naked Danny Devito right now, dude! And your bare ass cheeks were just rubbing all over my sofa! Is this how you usually look when you turn into a human?"

I am both perplexed by his response and a little offended. "I do not understand," I reply, crossing my arms in front of my chest, which was covered in a fine pelt of hair. "Does physical appearance really mean that much to earthlings? I assumed this was a very regal form to take on, Alan."

"Sort of," Alan replies, and then he seems to think about it, his eyes shifting from the wall and then back to me very quickly. "A lot of humans choose a partner based on how they look. We even give jobs to people who dress better and have nicer haircuts, which sounds super shitty now that I'm saying that out loud. It's complicated, okay? Even I don't understand half of how it works."

I lower my eyes to the soft, dirt-brown covering on Alan's floor and try not to cry.

"There's nothing wrong with the way you look," Alan finally sighs. "You just freaked me out. I left an adorable pink alien standing in my living room and came back to someone totally different."

The hair on the back of my neck prickles in response.

I could not believe what I was hearing. Did Alan really think I was adorable? Never in my life had I heard anything like that before. My appearance had always been the subject of ridicule and hate, never anything positive that I could recall. 

"I-I suppose I should spend some time observing the local population before I choose a proper form," I stutter, my star warming shyly. "On my planet, appearances are also greatly taken into consideration. In fact, should a warrior lose a limb in battle or become too old to function any longer, they are honorably killed and/or disemboweled by the sword."

Alan instantly loses his smile.

I slide back into my Tau form, a soft glow starting over the left side of my chest before it spreads out over my body, and I'm back to the way I appeared before I became too eager to join the human race. Unfortunately, my burns and wounds were still there, and with it came a familiar exhaustion again.

I feel my legs give out before I can sit back down on the cushioned chair behind me, and Alan shouts in terror, lunging for me. Before I know it, he's scooping me into his arms to keep me from collapsing on the spot, and I'm being lifted into the air, my head rolling back limply. 

"Alan," I whisper weakly, "you told me your name, but I did not give you mine."

"Shh," he replies, and he gently places me down on the sofa. "Don't talk; save your energy."

"My name is Luna," I respond, and I see him pull over a white box, which he opens to expose a variety of medical equipment within. "Luna Amir Ishmael. And I have traveled a great distance to be here," I say. "It has been a very, very exhausting journey."

Alan gazes up at me from where he kneels on the floor, and the reality of the situation seems to hit him all at once when he sits back, a stunned look on his face. He touches his face timidly, and then he looks up at me again and shakes his head once.

"All right, Luna. Would you mind if I cleaned your wounds?" He asks me after a moment, holding a small white ball in one hand and a container full of some kind of ointment in the other. "I don't know if aliens can get infections, but you have some nasty wounds on your face."

"Permission granted," I murmur, and I close my eyes. "When we meet again, I promise not to frighten you again by taking on the appearance of Danny Devito."

Alan laughs, but soon his voice fades to nothing, and I find myself drifting back into a deep sleep, comforted somehow by the thought of him watching over me, as odd as it was. My life had been full of so much pain and loneliness up until now that I wanted to believe there was good in the universe. That maybe I had found the answer I was looking for.

This, of course, was not a logical thought process to follow.

I knew better than to trust a stranger.

Some time passes before I awaken to the sound of agitated voices and find that the light outside has faded into darkness. Alan had turned on a fire in one corner of the room, but it did not smoke and burn like a normal fire, and it was pleasant to look at. 

I sit up as carefully as possible and look down, startled to find myself wearing a very large, white article of clothing with the words, "Will cry if yelled at." Written on the front. Alan had also proceeded to tape colorful bandages on my wounds, and they glittered faintly when I moved my fingers and arms around to look at them. 

"Alan? Are you there?" I murmur and slide off the sofa, rubbing my eye with one hand.

"I'm not letting you into my apartment!" Alan's voice shouts from outside the window, "I told you that I'd box up your stuff and drop it off later! Why the hell can't you just leave me alone? We're done. You cheated on me! It's over!"

I quietly approach the window and timidly peek through the plastic slits.

Alan appears to be yelling at another human in front of his apartment. His arms move very animatedly, his broad shoulders are tense, and he's glaring very angrily. 

"Aw, Al! You're not even going to let me in a little?" The other human tilts his head to one side in question. He was incredibly handsome, with short, dark hair and large eyes that shone even in the darkness. But even I could see that his appearance was upsetting Alan. "Why? Are you hiding someone in there?" The stranger asks, "Did you move on to some other boy toy already?"

"Fuck off, Noah!" Alan snaps at him, "Just leave me alone!"

"Your bakery sucks, by the way!" The stranger shouts at him, "You make shitty ass cakes!"

I quickly step back when Alan turns towards the apartment and let the blinds snap closed. It felt as if I had just intruded on one of my superior's conversations. And if what I heard was true, Alan had just been talking to one of his former mates. 

The door begins to open, so I sprint for the sofa as fast as I can and throw myself down on the cushions before Alan can see me, my eyes squeezing shut. 

I try to regulate my breathing when I hear and feel him come over, but it proves to be difficult because he makes all the organs in my body feel like they are vibrating all at once.

"You're really bad at pretending to be asleep," Alan tells me. 

"How did you know?" I respond, opening one eye to look up at him. "I was very stealthy."

"You light up like a Light Bright when you get all embarrassed," he points out and finally smiles down at me. "You hungry? There's an In-N-Out open until 1 a.m. around the corner." 

My stomach growls savagely in response.