Artificial Mates - Chapter 113

“Master! Demos—” cried the hologram of the tiny pixie as we got inside. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry. It was my fault. If I didn’t suggest Dee to go buy that stupid mug,” Grant crossed the room to the kitchen area. There was a potted plant on the bar. I tried my best to suppress my tears. But everything in this house reminded me of Demos. His happy dark and crooked smile as he greets me.

“Lights?” called Grant and the harsh spotlight came on. I wiped my tears with the back of my hands.

“Tell me,” Grant turned to Jil. The AI flashed big tears eyes at us. I didn’t know they could cry. Maybe it was just a programmed response to tragic events and had nothing to do with real emotions.

“Dee—he was washing the dishes. He let the mug fall and it broke,” she pointed to the mug I used to drink tea this morning.

“He went out because of that?” I shouted my voice breaking half the way. Jil nodded then disappeared and reappeared on Grant’s shoulder. She hugged him and buried her face in his hair.

“I’m sorry. Olga contacted me when I didn’t see him coming back home. I’m so stupid. Please forgive me, Master,” she sobbed. Grant just stared in the distance. He hadn’t displayed any emotions so far. I knew under this calm surface lay something—but I wasn’t sure I wanted to poke into those deep waters. Grant scares me when he doesn’t react. Unlike Demos, he keeps it all inside.

I ate dinner cause my body needed it, I forced myself to keep on moving. I wobbled as I reached for the bathroom door. The mirror sent my pitiful face back at me. My eyes were swollen from crying and my skin was a sickly color. Grant came to catch me as I leaned on the frame for support.

“Do you want to help you?” I blinked at him. “I mean to bath—no in that matter,” he suggested towards my body. If I wasn’t that tired I would have laughed or blushed. Maybe even both at the same time. But right now, my mind and my body were in conflict.

“It’s ok,” I lowered my head. “I can manage,” I looked back up with a tight smile.

“I’m not just being polite, I need to be reassured. I need to know you are ok,” he reached and touched my face. I placed my hand over his. His silver eyes have a tint of rust into them with so much pain.

“Thanks for being here,” I whispered and moved away before I crumble to pieces once again. I was planning to keep it together. Being away from him, not touching him helped me not think of the gap that Demos left. I focus on the small things. Put one foot in front of the other. Get undressed. Not fall on the slippery floor. Not cry. Be strong.

I went back to the room and found Grant already in bed, he pushed the covers when I got near. I paused looking at the spot there Demos usually sleeps.

“Come,” he opened his arms. I sunk into his embrace. “I love you, forever,” he kissed my forehead. My eyes were dry, I couldn’t cry. I just couldn’t cry—for their sake. I closed my eyes and let go of everything I drifted in that cold emptiness of space. Black. Everything was black. I reached my hand before me, the gloom parted around it like a thick veil. I grabbed more space. Empty. The place where the red thread was supposed to be—there was nothing.

“Liliane,” the voice came from the other side. The bring white thread shone in the night. I turned towards it. Grant floated there, light shining from his body. His brown hair emitting a low glow around his peaceful face. He smiled and opened his arms. “Come, I’ll love for two,” I peeked over my shoulder at the vacant space where Demos should have been.

“I can’t,” his arms fell by his side, smile fading.

“Don’t you love me? If Demos wasn’t here, won’t you love me?”

My eyes flickered open, my pillow was wet with tears. A soft glow lit the room. It was still early, the sun was slowly rising. I pushed away from the covers and found one of his arms wrapped around me. My heart ached as the dream came back. His question echoed inside my head. Did I have a preference between those two? I brushed away his brown curls. He pulled me closer to him and looked up with a smile.

“It’s 4 am, you should sleep,” I rested my forehead against his. We stared in the eyes of each other in silence. He traced the outline of my jaw with one finger then sigh.

“Grant, I want to be honest,” I started, but closed his eyes and buried his face in my chest, his arms wrapping around me. “Hey, I’m being serious here,” he shooked his head refusing to look at me.

“There’s nothing good that comes out when you start with that kind of sentence,” I gently stroked his hair. What exactly was I going to say? Somehow, I needed to answer his question. The one he asks in that dream. ‘If Demos wasn’t here, won’t you love me?’

“Grant,” my voice was a mere whispered.

“Don’t, I don’t want to hear you say you love him more than me,” his voice was muffled, he sounded like he was crying. My heart squeezed inside my chest. “We are one and yet you are unable to love us the same way,” he pulled away and I could finally meet his eyes. They shone like jewels. There were no tears.

“I’m sorry,” wrinkles appeared between his brows ruining his beautiful face. His features were too delicate and soft to be handsome. Perfection was somehow scary. Not just physically but his character—Grant was too good to be true.

“Please, don’t say that you’re sorry,” his lips dipped like he was really about to cry. I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

“Don’t make the face. I’m trying hard to hold my pieces together,” he lowered his eyes. Those long dark lashes resting on his soft skin. I leaned closer and kissed his closed lid. His arms tightened around me.

“I do love you—in a different way,” I hugged him back and we stayed like that till I fell asleep.

***

When I got up the bed was empty, I felt a sort of panic for a second. Then quickly tugged my feelings in that tiny box, took a couple of deep breaths before getting out of bed. After cleaning up and slipping into training gear I went to the kitchen. Grant and Olga were at the bar chatting in low voices. Grant looked up with a smile that crumbled around the edges when our eyes met. God, what had I done?

“Hey,” I tried my best to smile and failed.

“Don’t force yourself, we understand this is a difficult time,” said Olga. I frowned at her. Wasn’t it her who insisted that I needed to be stronger. She laughed when she saw my expression. “Liliane, stronger doesn’t mean smiling to hide the pain,” she hopped off the chair. Olga was wearing black leggings and a purple top. Her hair was tight in a high ponytail. She was ready for action. I wasn’t sure that it was all about.

“Ready?” she smiled, it was the challenging type od smile. I gave a quick glance at Grant then nodded at her.

“Yes,” I wanted to be stronger—not just for them but for myself.

ASM*-abstract state machine