Although I thought this was not a very good combination, it was still somewhat difficult to leave.
He was too clingy.
After a brief moment of sentimentality, he started laughing again. He held up a shirt and jacket in front of me, asking in a negotiating tone, “Can you change your clothes?”
Although his tone was negotiative, his actions were quite the opposite. Soon, my shirt was taken off.
While I was away during the day, it seemed he had explored every accessible area on the plane.
The plane’s kitchen was relatively clean, if you didn’t count the skeletal corpse. Oh right, I think he died and then starved to death here.
Dying twice is truly tragic, especially starving to death in a kitchen.
The smell of the mummified corpse wasn’t too strong. At least the person’s reaction seemed normal; he just frowned slightly and adapted.
Then he skillfully walked to the items he had discovered during the day.
There was actually clean water here.
The sound of running water felt… soothing.
He didn’t fill the basin too much. With a towel that he must have scavenged from somewhere, he wet it and wrung it out. He held it up, signaling me that he intended to wipe my face.
I instinctively recoiled, and he paused, squinting at me. The next moment, the cloth was slapped onto my face with a splat.
What a waste of resources.
I wanted to roll my eyes again.
After wasting four or five towels, he seemed satisfied. He put one end of the shirt over my head and draped it around my neck. Then he stepped back, pursed his lips, and asked, “Can you put it on?”
“…” I bent my arm, found the sleeve, and slipped it in.
He seemed quite happy. After I got my arm in, he came back to adjust the shirt and patted my shoulder, smiling, “You look much more energetic now.”
His hand didn’t retract from my shoulder but instead moved a bit closer, pressing against me. His head rested on the side of mine. I could hear his breathing, his heartbeat, and the appetizing scent of meat from his body.
He seemed to take a deep breath, and I thought about what to do.
Then he pulled back slightly, and I tried to suppress the impulse to bite his shoulder, turning my head the other way.
His voice seemed a bit confused and excited.
“Persi, do you know? You don’t have that kind of smell.”
What smell?
I turned back, trying to frown.
I wasn’t sure if I succeeded. He met my gaze and seemed to understand my question, explaining, “You don’t have that… rotten smell. After wiping off the dirt, I can’t smell that odor.”
Is that a good thing?
My sense of discernment isn’t very strong, but besides his smell, the air seemed to only have the scent of the mummified corpse.
To be honest, my mind wasn’t fully on this. I kept feeling something was wrong after seeing that corpse.
He tugged at my arm, pulling me back and saying, “I’m so tired. Let’s sleep.”
You can go to sleep if you want. I don’t need to.
But I didn’t resist and let him pull me back.
When he tried to get me to sit in a chair, I resolutely stood on the ground.
He looked puzzled and asked what was wrong.
I thought for a moment, made my hand and fingers form a right angle, then flattened my fingers, and awkwardly said, “…Don’t… like…”
He understood what I was trying to say but repeated, somewhat confused, “Don’t like?”
I nodded.
“Why?” He looked at the chair, then at me, and seemed to remember something, bursting into laughter.
…What’s so funny?
He stopped laughing after a while, supporting the back of the chair and said, “I’ll recline the chair first. Can you lie down then?”
Impressive! He actually knows that I don’t like sudden reclining?
I nodded quickly this time. He bent down, pressed a button to recline the chair, then sat on the other side and patted the seat.
Now I could lie down with peace of mind.
He lay beside me. I turned my head to look at him, while he turned his whole body towards me, wrapping his arms around me.
Even though he was a guy, why was he so clingy?
I unconsciously turned towards him, placing one hand under my head and the other on his waist.
This action seemed to make him very happy. He moved closer and began to mumble.
“Did you just start talking today?”
I nodded.
“Is it because of me?”
Probably, I hesitated and nodded.
“…Do you really not remember me?”
I paused and still nodded.
He laughed, “Don’t remember me, but still talk because of me? Am I really that great?”
…You’re so narcissistic.
I looked at him speechlessly.
He seemed a bit tired, his voice soft, “So you really like me, huh? Chen Ke.” He laughed at himself.
I don’t think I like him.
And… can’t he speak properly?
But he continued to talk, “I like you a lot too…”
His arms around me tightened a bit, and he nestled closer into my embrace. I had to extend my hand under his neck to support him.
He snuggled into me, his voice a bit muffled, “Everything will be okay…”
…Perhaps.
Perhaps staying and being with him could be okay.
After all, I now somewhat resemble a human, and I’m really different from most of my companions.
Perhaps everything will be okay.
His grip gradually relaxed, his breathing steady, as he seemed to fall asleep.
The enticing smell was still in my nose.
But I suddenly realized that I didn’t seem… as hungry anymore…
This might be a good sign.
I think my current mood is somewhat relieved.
He was in my arms. I looked at him, and besides the thought of food, there seemed to be something else in my mind.
Perhaps… everything will be okay.
I listened to his breathing and heartbeat, experiencing the feeling of reassurance from someone else’s memory.
I don’t know how much time passed, but when I thought I should try closing my eyes to sleep, I suddenly heard the click of the cabin door and a faint moaning sound.
That sound made me tense up.
I finally realized what was wrong.
—If the corpse on this plane had starved to death, why was the corpse I just saw on the other plane still alive and kicking?
The existence of shelf life is truly terrifying.
