The bitterness on Salt’s face deepens, tinged with melancholy.
He turns and walks away down the corridor, and I follow.
"Some people never get to experience love. Is it even real?" he mutters.
"I believe it is."
"Maybe, but it’s rare. My brother didn’t have it."
"He had you. Yes, it was a different kind of love, brotherly, but I am sure his life was so much better because of you."
Salt stops and blinks, his expression briefly softening before it tightens again, his gaze snapping back to mine with a strange intensity.
"Did Storm tell you something about my past?"
"Damien and Storm said you killed those alphas in revenge for what they did to your brother. That you were deeply loyal. I’m sure Senu returned your love."
Salt’s lips tremble slightly as he speaks. "Ten times over. He sacrificed himself for me. I wouldn’t have survived without him. I owe him so much."
I lift my hand, wanting to gently touch his cheek, but he suddenly steps back and my hand falls.
A crease forms on his forehead.
"Don’t," he says, clenching his jaw. "We shouldn’t… get closer. This is all temporary. I don’t want to hurt you or deceive you."
Silence settles between us.
And then I see it. His eyes drop for a brief moment to his forearm, where the words ‘Justice for Senu’ are tattooed. It’s almost unconscious, automatic, but for me it opens a strange little window into his thought process. So, I am not going to push, not going to beg for a chance for us. I know that would only make things miserable.
"Fair," I say simply and turn to walk away.
Salt follows me slowly, but I can feel a shift in him on some deeper level. Even heavier sadness, mixed with anger, resistance, and something like grief.
But how do I even know this?
How is it possible that I read him so well? I feel his emotions almost physically in my own body. Is there really something more behind all this?
Whatever it is, I am not going to dig into it. Some things are better left alone.
As we walk along the promenade, I notice people sitting on benches, watching us with barely concealed hostility. I turn my head away and pretend that I don’t see it, don’t care.
But it dawns on me.
Damn. I’m always alone.
Alone in Anzo’s fortress, alone here too. Salt does not want to start a bond. Maybe he’s open to sex but not more.
My life just feels wrong.
Miserable.
We go back to unit 71. I sit down at the laptop and write my first article, openly critical of the situation in BA facilities. I write about how, instead of building community, people are encouraged to compete, fight, and rival one another. I ignore Salt, who stands in his usual spot by the window for a long hour, staring into the distance, smoking.
Lonely.
As I am.
Maybe that’s just our fate to accept.
