He pauses, enters the code, and the door slides open. The room inside is large, with a big canopy bed set right in the center. To my surprise, there are no windows, just a large screen displaying the outside view. On the opposite wall, there’s a massive mirror reflecting the entire room and both of us. I catch his brief glance in the reflection.
"As you can see, I’ve taken precautions. The penthouse was once shot at by a drone, so I moved into a room without windows. There’s a trapdoor under the bed that lets me drop down, and a metal plate that seals it from above in case someone breaks in."
I stare at all of it, realizing what his life actually looks like. Constant tension, constant danger, locked down like in a fortress.
"The videophone was installed recently after I found out my head of security had been compromised. That’s how the last attempt on my life happened. Unfortunately, I can’t fully trust my detail. None of the people you met today are one hundred percent reliable. That’s just not possible. The people who wantme dead can get to anyone. They’ll say, ‘I’ll kill your family if you don’t do this,’ and that’s it."
I stay quiet, not sure what to say. In a way, I was part of his problem too.
"That’s why I asked you to wear a mask. I don’t want anyone knowing your identity, so they can’t force you into an impossible situation," he explains.
For a few seconds, I just stare at him, blinking a little, more like a nervous tic than anything else.
"This is all really…" I trail off, unsure how to put it, then finally say, "sad. This kind of life."
Silence creeps in between us.
"You really live like this?"
Blue’s expression doesn’t change much, but his body seems slightly stiffer. I’m slowly starting to understand why he seems so… robotic to people.
"As I said before, this is the path I chose. Period."
"You say that so calmly, but… I don’t think you’re actually happy about it."
He lets out an irritated sound.
"Stop feeling pity for me, Gabriel. I don’t need that. I find satisfaction in my work, in what I do, and that’s my reward."
"Satisfaction. But is that the same as happiness?" I mutter very quietly.
He doesn’t respond.
I lower my gaze to the bed. The silk sheets are perfectly smooth, and for a second I think about his skin against them, a strange thought that just slips in…
And then it slips right out.
"I know our relationship isn’t like that, we’re not even destined to be friends, but can I ask if you have anyone in your life who’s important to you, someone you can actually talk to about all this?"
This time Blue’s tone becomes slightly impatient, as if it irritates him that he even has to explain any of this at all.
"I have my parents. I’m close with my nephews, like Sariel or Axel, who you’ll probably meet soon. I get along well with my brothers. We see each other regularly. I’m not lacking family connections, if that’s what you’re asking."
No, actually, that’s not the point of my question…
"What about love?" I blurt out.
"What about it?" he repeats in the same, annoyed tone, raising an eyebrow slightly.
"Do you have someone… like that?" I gesture vaguely, feeling my face heat up a little. Why am I going down this path again? He told me not to cross professional boundaries, but temptation is winning over reason.
He studies me for a moment, then says, "For now, I’m ignoring the fact that your questions are crossing the line of what an employee can say to an employer. And I already made it clear to you at Fate’s Choice that I’m not interested in having an intimate relationship." Then he adds in an even colder voice, "Love is overrated anyway, and I don’t believe in the concept of it. These are all chemical cascades in your brain, endorphins."
I feel like I’m sliding down a snow-covered slope into the unknown. I don’t know why I keep bringing up these topics, clearly against his wishes, and even against my own judgment. I’m acting completely unhinged.
"But don’t you consider it even a slightly interesting phenomenon? People need closeness, touch… there’s actually a scientific basis for it. Touch can be healing, soothing."
Silence.
