"Eh... what do I even do now...?"
Blake rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around the cramped room.
The alien had gone back to sitting quietly in the chair, as if their brief interaction had never happened. They stared straight ahead again, expression unreadable, their breathing calm and steady.
After a moment's hesitation, Blake crouched in front of them once more.
"Sorry."
He reached out carefully.
The alien didn't react.
Taking that as permission, or at least the absence of refusal, Blake gently took their hand into his own.
It was much colder than he'd expected.
The skin wasn't rough, nor particularly smooth. It had an odd texture, almost like very fine scales hidden beneath soft flesh, barely noticeable unless he focused on it. Turning the hand over, he examined the palm and the long, slender fingers more closely.
"...Huh."
His eyes widened slightly.
It matched.
