In a burst of frustrated panic, Mike snatched one of the glowing fruits and hurled it at alien. The creature's reaction was smooth and instantaneous – one of the smaller tentacles plucked the fruit from the air with elegant precision. But instead of showing any sign of offense, the eye he could see lit up with what looked disturbingly like delight.

The three-part beak opened with a soft click, and Mike watched in horrified fascination as the fruit was delicately maneuvered between its sections. The beak closed with a gentle snap, and the fruit's glow could be seen traveling down through semi-transparent tissues, like swallowing a tiny star.

The creature's bioluminescent patterns sparkled with what seemed to be pleasure, and its eye crinkled at him in what was unmistakably a "thank you" expression. Another tentacle gestured toward the bowl, then back to Mike, clearly offering to share – as if he'd meant to start some kind of picnic instead of trying to attack them.

Mike stared in disbelief as the Alien settled more comfortably into their tripod sitting position, apparently convinced they were now having a pleasant snack time together. The beak clicked in that chuckling way again, and a tentacle reached for another fruit, holding it up invitingly.

In desperate pantomime, Mike pointed at himself, then at what he thought was the door, making exaggerated walking motions with his fingers. It's eye followed his gestures with what seemed like thoughtful attention, head tilting slightly.

Then, without any visible mechanism or warning, an entire section of the wall simply became transparent.

Mike's walking fingers froze mid-step. Outside, what had been a calm beach night had transformed into chaos. Golf ball-sized hail hammered the ground with violent force, turning the peaceful shoreline into a war zone. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating walls of approaching rain. The wind bent trees at dangerous angles, and debris flew through the air like missiles.

Alien's bioluminescence pulsed, and their eye fixed on Mike with what could only be described as gentle reproach. One tentacle gestured to the storm, then back to the comfortable, safe room, while another picked up a piece of fruit and offered it again.

A particularly large piece of hail smashed into the transparent wall with enough force to make Mike flinch, but the wall didn't even vibrate. He looked back at creature, who was still patiently holding out the fruit, and felt his reality tilt sideways yet again.

Mike sank back onto the living bed, watching as another burst of hail rattled against the transparent wall. Each impact should have been deafening, but the room somehow muted the sound to gentle taps, like rain on a roof. The contrast between the violence outside and the peaceful interior made his head spin.

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"You... you were trying to get me to shelter," he mumbled, more to himself than to it. The creature's eye crinkled in apparent approval at his understanding, and their bioluminescence brightened briefly. The tentacle still holding the fruit waggled it hopefully in his direction.

A massive branch flew past the transparent wall, and Mike found himself unconsciously scooting away from that side of the room. The wall immediately turned opaque again, the room's gentle humming increasing slightly as if to reassure him. Alien clicked their beak.

The reality of what might have happened if he'd successfully 'escaped' began to sink in. He would have run straight into that storm. The same storm it had probably sensed coming when they first grabbed him. All that medical attention, the careful handling, the insistence on bringing him here...

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft tap on his shoulder. Alien had extended one of their smaller tentacles, still offering the fruit, but now there was an unmistakable twinkle in their visible eye. The creature had gone from terrifying alien abductor to smug alien lifeguard, and somehow that was almost worse.

The creature's entire demeanor had changed, radiating an almost palpable smug. Their bioluminescent patterns had taken on a gently twinkling quality that somehow managed to convey pure satisfaction.

When another particularly loud burst of hail hit somewhere above them. The beak clicked in that chuckling pattern, but now it had a distinctly smug undertone. One smaller tentacle reached out to pat Mike's head again, the motion practically dripping with self-satisfaction.

The fruit was still being offered, but now it felt less like a peace offering and more like a reward for finally coming to his senses. It had settled into an even more comfortable position, their three main tentacles arranged in what could only be described as a lounging pose.

The worst part was that Mike couldn't even properly resent it. Every crash of hail outside only proved Alien right. The creature had basically saved him from running headfirst into a natural disaster, and now he had to sit here and endure their alien equivalent of a victory dance – which currently involved their bioluminescence doing what appeared to be a smug little light show.

When Mike covered his face with his hands in embarrassment, he heard that clicking laugh again, followed by another gentle, absolutely insufferable pat on his head.