Page 38 of Unruly
“It’s okay. It was a very long time ago.”
“Like how long? When were you born?”
“According to my file, I was born in London in 1576. I’ll have to take their word for it since I have few memories of my early life. I can’t even recall what my parents looked like.”
“That’s wild.”
He nods. “I used to look at paintings of them and read some of my mother’s journals, but as time went on, I became detached, feeling more and more of a stranger to them, and them to me. That’s the hardest part of immortality. You lose people, and then eventually, you lose the memory of them too.”
“That sounds really freaking sad.”
“It isn’t anymore. One adjusts, and my life and responsibilities keep me very busy.” He sips his coffee. “This is delightful. I forgot about this too.”
“Glad you like it.”
It’s clear to me that he changed the subject on purpose, so I’ll respect that. As my eyes roam over him, I notice a section of the t-shirt he’s wearing balled up and crusted with… Is that what I think it is? Fuck. Did I give him a dirty shirt? No. There’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed that. Which would mean…
“How did you sleep,” I ask delicately.
“Very well, actually. I don’t require a lot of it, but I found it comfortable and restful.”
“Good. Do you, um, do you dream like regular people?”
“I am capable of dreaming, though it is rare.”
Nodding, I sip my coffee. I could ask him about the shirt, but that would just embarrass him. “Head feel okay after the drinks last night?”
“Yes, fine.” He glances down for a minute then back up at me. “I had fun. Thank you for the experience.”
“My pleasure.”
“We should get back to our mission today though. We need to see what we can find out about the Horror’s past. Maybe there’s a lingering connection somewhere.”
“Right.”
Farnsworth sets his mug on the coffee table, and at that moment seems to catch sight of his soiled shirt. I pretend not to notice as I watch him fully panic and draw the blanket up around his waist. I’ll throw him a lifeline.
“You want to grab a shower first? I like to drink my coffee slowly.”
“Oh, um…”
I get to my feet and gesture over my shoulder to the kitchen. “Want some toast?”
“No, thank you.”
“Cool. See you in a bit.”
I leave the room to give him privacy to get up without an audience. Now I’m really interested in what happened after I went to bed last night. Good to know his body works in that way too. Not that it matters. That guy has walls as high as the sky.
I got a little peek at what’s hiding behind those walls though last night though. Could I coax that side of him out of hiding again?
As I throw a couple of slices of bread into the toaster, I realize I’m not at all hungry. I really should be by now. I don’t remember my last complete meal. Huh. I don’t want to lose that. I love food. Maybe it’s just a matter of choosing to eat versus needing to. I’ll have to ask Farnsworth.
Leaning on the counter, I wait for the bread to toast, my thoughts drifting to what Farnsworth must have done last night. Kind of hot thinking about him getting himself off on my couch. I wonder what got him worked up. The alcohol? Seeing men kiss and dance together? Me? Wouldn’t that be something? I don’t think he’s at all tempted by me, but I can enjoy the fantasy if I want to.
“Borja?”
His soft voice reaches me in the tiny kitchen, so I shuffle forward and lean around the wall.
