Together.
We will succeed.
5
Quinn
Eleven Solars Left
The warmth pulls me from the thick embrace of sleep. It’s not unpleasant, per se, just different from the coolness that permeates the facility if you pay a lot of attention to it. I shift in Oz’s bed as the fog in my head slowly fades away. I’d spent most of the night browsing through the pages and pages of information Uvie had transferred to my tablet.
I’m not going to lie, it isn’t a hardship. Getting lost in a book, or even data as the case may be, is my happy place. The morts were able to requisition a vast amount of literature from the days before Mortuus was even a place. They must have been very resourceful. I can’t imagine being abandoned on a dying planet, watching your salvation fly away while you’re left to face certain death. I’d been born on Earth II, so I never knew anything different. Oz’s people have been through horrors that were unimaginable to survive. The fact they’re still here is incredible in and of itself.
The thought of Oz brings me the rest of the way out of sleep. I crack my eyes open and find him lying on his bed next to me, his big body cradling my own. No wonder it was getting warm. His arm is wrapped around my back and his legs are tangled with mine. He has his head propped up on his free hand and he’s watching me, as though deep in thought.
“Hey,” I say a little breathlessly. I’m all too distracted having him so close to me. It makes it hard for me to think clearly when combined with the dregs of sleep still tumbling around in my head.
“Sleep well?” he asks, his voice a bit hoarse. His black eyes don’t show the redness like mine would, but there’s something about the glint in them that makes me think he’s tired. Maybe their inky depths are duller than usual or maybe it’s the tightness in the small muscles around them. For sure the bruising under his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks is a sign he’s been working hard…too hard. But how do I tell him to stop when I know how much is resting on his shoulders?
“Well enough,” I answer and give in to having him wrapped around me. Before I woke up in the facility, I couldn’t have remembered the last time someone had held me, let alone touched me. The service class, and that’s what I was considered on Earth II because I had to work in order to survive, wasn’t allowed such luxuries. We worked until we died. The end.
Not exactly the happiest story.
This is my chance to rewrite my own ending and I’m not going to let it pass me by.
“You look like you could use some,” I tell him as his free hand moves up to tangle in my hair. Over the past couple of days, I’ve learned he has somewhat an obsession with touching and savoring. Like he’s memorizing me with his hands. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
I pull back long enough to see him lift a shoulder in a shrug.
Frowning, I say, “That’s not an answer.”
His lips curve in a teasing smile. “My Whisper is a grumpy one.”
I could have him call me his forever. “Oz. You need to sleep. You work in your lab all day and night on the weapon and barely take breaks. It’s not safe. You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t get some rest.”
“I rested. Look, I’m resting now.” He nods down to our tangled bodies.
Smothering a laugh, I say, “This doesn’t count. You aren’t asleep. Have you been here like this all night?”
“I like watching you sleep. It’s why I liked talking to you while you were in the Medical Bay. You were so peaceful. It makes me feel peace to watch you.”
“Wow,” I breathe, my cheeks burning. How sweet is he? “Well, I’m happy to hear that, Oz, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re running yourself ragged. This pace isn’t sustainable. I know how hard you have to work, but you aren’t going to do anyone any good if you burn out.”
“I’ll be fine. Once I have a working prototype I won’t have to work so much. I’ll rest then. I don’t know how much time I’ll have with you. I don’t want to miss a moment in case it’ll be our last.”
“How about you sleep when you’re in here at night. I’m not going anywhere,” I insist.
“Do you promise?”
“Promise what?” I lift my eyes to his, feeling pinned by the intensity of his gaze.
“Do you promise you won’t go anywhere?”
I think of the other morts who have their families to go home to, then of Oz, who has no one but me. He and Galen, the other unmated mort, must feel so lonely sometimes to be without a family when all they’ve had was each other for so long. Maybe that’s the part of me that is so drawn to and comforted by him. For a long time, I didn’t have anyone either. It had always been me and my books. I didn’t think I needed anyone else.