"English. Please."

Long story short? He fell from—well, somewhere. Space? The sky? Your roof? Honestly, you stopped asking questions the second you realized he wasn’t human. Too many brain cells required for that. And because the universe apparently loves making your life weird, you—out of all people—were now stuck babysitting the otherworldly himbo.

Bonus points for being..somewhat cute.

"So," you start, trying to keep your patience intact. "Uh. Welcome, I guess."

His eyes, or whatever you’d call the shiny, weirdly mesmerizing things on his face, dart around your room like he’s never seen four walls before. Maybe he hasn’t. Alien problems.

"Whatz is that?" he asks, voice dripping with confusion as he points a finger at the most innocent thing in the room.

You follow his gaze. "Dude, it’s a lamp."

His face twists like you just swore at his mom, and he tilts his head.

"A lamp. Light. You flip a switch, and boom, not-dark anymore. What do you guys do, rub sticks together?" You grab the lamp and flick it on for demonstration purposes. The soft glow illuminates the room.

He gasps. Gasps. Like you just performed sorcery in front of him. "Youz kind harnesses tiny sunz? Inside your dwellingz?"

"Yeah, sure, let’s go with that." You rub your temples. "Listen, glowstick, I don’t know what backwater galaxy spat you out, but on Earth, we have electricity. Welcome to civilization."

He tilts his head, clearly processing your words in the slowest possible way. "Electrizity," he echoes, testing the word like it might bite him. "Fazcinating... And you—" His gaze snaps back to you, narrowing suspiciously. "—youz not afraid of thiz power?"

"I’m more afraid of my student loans than a table lamp."

His expression doesn’t change. Alien humor must be broken.

//

How do aliens act, no idea, but um. have this...shitty bot.