I don't speak to him.
Sometimes he speaks to me, but "yes" and "no" can be conveyed by a shake of my head and all the words are like puzzles waiting to be put together and they never fit right so I leave them out there to be picked up later.
There are fourteen inches of steel between us and the black. The air recycler hinges upon a computer chip smaller than my thumbnail. Serenity has to want to fly, and sometimes after… I don't know the words for that - let them sit all pretty in the chaos. I've already seen too much.
Little tiny things keeping little tiny people alive in the black, and all with different colors.
Simon and Kaylee are pink and green like new leaves, Mal and Inara are red and gold. Zoe is purple like the queens in the history books, and Jayne is brown.
He changes but not really, not like the others.
When he is angry he is black brown like a barren planet, hard and unyielding.
When I kiss him he is the warm umber of soil hot from the sun, open and willing.
His heartbeat is strong and always makes sense. Sixty two beats per minute when he's sleeping, seventy four when I undress and make him wait before I let him touch me.
He knows what he is, and when I am with him I know what I am too.
I am River.
I am his.
Don't need words to tell the 'verse what it already knows. Dress everything up pretty with rules and convention and polite da bian hua. I don't want that and he doesn't either.
Strip it all away in the dark and I see him and he sees me.
Besides, not like any one would dare complain. Vera approves, and she and I have an understanding when it comes to those who would threaten our man.