“Do you think we’re in danger?”
“I think it’s safe to say we're in some kind of predicament, that is sure.” He looks back thoughtfully to the silver button floating in the screens of forest. “It appears we’ll be here for another two hours no matter the outcome, though.” He searches my face and stares down at his own hands as they clasp around my waist.
“We’re different from each other aren’t we?” I say as I push his white hair behind the delicately frilled ear. I trace my hand down the ink blot like patterns of his softly gradient skin.
“I think that’s a fairly obvious observation, little one.”
“And it’s awfully strange that we can’t seem to remember who we are, isn’t it?”
This whole situation should make me more fearful than I am, but I’m able to keep the fear at bay as long as his skin is touching mine.
“Are you scared?” he asks softly.
“I, I don’t know. I feel like I should be.”
“Do I scare you?”
“No,” I say truthfully.
I lean in, attempting to breathe his scent in once more, our lips getting ever so close. My body betrays me suddenly as my stomach contracts and gurgles in hunger.
“Not scared, but hungry.” He smiles, lifting me from his lap, and places me gently on the bed before patting the top of my head. He walks back over to the silver button and presses it. As he holds it down, a slot opens near the floor, and two hot aluminum trays of food slide out onto the floor. He walks back over and places a tray in my hands.
The colorful assortment of spongy material steams and glistens. While the gray man looks at his tray and practically drools, I feel as though this food is strange. I poke at it with my finger, and it slides unnaturally.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Sq’aurks, of course.”
He slides a two pronged utensil out of the side of the tray. He stabs into one of the blue puffs, and it wriggles intensely before he pops it into his mouth and swallows it in one gulp. My mouth drops open, and the bile rises in my throat.
“I can’t eat those, they’re alive!”
He looks at me strangely. “They’re no good when they’re dead.”
“I don’t think this is my people’s food,” I say politely, not wanting to insult his culture—not after he’s been so protective of me.
“Oh, what do your kind eat?”
“Um…” I search my head. Things still feel foggy and out of place, but slowly a word materializes in my mind. I’m proud I can recall anything. “Pie, we eat pie.”
“What’s pie?”
“It’s food, it’s sweet, covered in a pie crust. You bake it,” I say, my mouth watering at the thought of a peach pie, but my stomach roils as soon as I look down at the trays again. I turn away and bring a hand to my mouth.
“I don’t think we have pie,” he says regretfully. “I also think if you’re not going to eat your sq’aurks maybe I should? To make sure my stamina and strength stay up… in case, you know, something bad happens when the doors open. I’d like to be able to protect you.”
I try to push the disgust down to smile; I think the best I can give him is a half smirk. “Promise you’ll at least eat them quickly?”
Without warning, he tips his tray back, sliding about fifteen of the pastel colored creatures into his mouth, swallowing, and then repeating the same with my tray.
“It’s a shame you don’t like these. I think they might be my favorite.” He pats his stomach. “But I am sorry we don’t have food more suited to your palette. Will you be alright for a few hours?”
“I mean sure, just promise me we’ll find some pie if we survive?”
“I’ll do anything you desirewhenwe survive.” His voice softens, and he inhales as he leans close to me. “Can I touch you?”
I hesitate only slightly. “Do you think maybe this room is like a one-way mirror? How can we be sure we aren’t being watched?”
