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“What are you doing tonight?”
“Good morning to you, too,” I replied, giving Sophie what I was sure was probably a strange look. But she was being strange this morning. Her little white hands were balled into fists at her sides, and her face was set in an expression so determined that she almost looked angry.
“Nevermind,” she said suddenly, waving her hand in the air. “I’m not asking you what you’re doing tonight. I’m telling you.”
“You are?” I said, slipping my apron on and tying it. She did the same, turning so I could tie hers as well. It wasn’t lost on me that this was her last shift. This would be the last time I opened the shop with her. The last time I bent, breathing in her sweet scent, and tying this apron’s straps.
I’d never considered myself the sentimental type before. Didn’t even think that I was capable of it. But Sophie was bringing out parts of me that I didn’t even know existed. She continued speaking as I tied her apron.
“Yes, I am. After work, when you walk me home, you’re coming to my place.”
I pulled the bow tight, then paused, letting my fingers linger at her back for a moment.
“Am I?” was all I managed to say after a beat of silence.
She turned, her small chin raised defiantly.
“Yes. You are. It’s Christmas Eve. You’re supposed to spend that with someone you care about.” Then her face fell, and the expression was so purely sad it made me want to fall to my knees and gather her into my arms. I clenched my claws into fists, my hands feeling so damn empty without her.
“You don’t already have plans, do you?” She sounded far less sure of herself now. And again with that sad look. It was killing me.
“No, I don’t,” I said.
“Good. Well, now you do,” she said. Without another word, she turned and opened the top portion of the window, greeting the first customer waiting in line there. I stared at her for a long moment before forcing myself to turn to my work, running over the words she’d just said. You’re supposed to spend Christmas Eve with someone you care about...
There was no other way to interpret her words. I kept trying to deny it, to argue my way around it, to tell myself not to get my hopes up, that the beautiful human next to me would never choose a jaded ex-soldier like me. And yet... And yet...
The end of the shift came swiftly. We completed the closing duties quickly and way more quietly than usual. Well, I wasn’t much more quiet than usual, but Sophie certainly was. Where her chirping voice usually peppered the air with jokes and teasing and observations that seemed unique to the optimism of the human spirit, tonight it was silent. We were both aware that this was the last time we’d be doing this. And how that fact ached in me. Knowing that soon she’d go back to her old life. That I’d have to let her go. In the few weeks I’d known her, I’d grown attached to her in the most irreparable sort of way. Her scent, her voice, her rosy cheeks and almost incessant smile had been etched into my bones. And I wasn’t so sure I’d be able to get them out, now.
I locked the door as Sophie waited beside me, then we began to walk, still in silence. We rode the hover-vator in silence too, and the wordlessness wasn’t broken until she opened the door to her quarters.
“Well, here we are,” she said, leading me inside.
Her room looked similar to a smaller version of mine, with a less equipped kitchen area and only a two-piece bath. There was also no separate bedroom, and the bed, the one she’d been sleeping on, maybe even naked, Galkor’s gods, was at the far end, against the wall. A deep, animal instinct to fall onto that bed, take the bedding up against my face and breathe in hard was difficult to beat down. But beat it down, I did.
One major way Sophie’s quarters differed from mine were the homey touches she’d placed around the space. Even though she was only a short-term renter here and I was a permanent resident, her quarters looked far more lived-in than mine. A couple of candles were on a bedside table, and she had found a tiny artificial tree at one of the shops aboard the station to stash in the corner. I’d never particularly cared about such decorative touches, myself. My own quarters were practically sterile. But here, among Sophie’s things, it felt warm and right and, dare I say, even cozy. And just like that, my own quarters, the whole fucking life I’d built for myself here felt... empty. Empty without her.
Sophie undid her tight hairstyle, letting her hair fall in agonizingly lovely waves, then kicked off her tiny boots before turning back to me.
“I had this whole plan that I was going to cook for you on Christmas Eve, but now that I’m home I’m feeling really lazy. Are you OK if I order something in for us?”
“I’d cook for you,” I offered, surveying her tiny kitchen, but she shook her head.
“I don’t even have all the ingredients I’d need. So is the delivery option OK?”
“Of course.” Together we scoped out the delivery menu, and Sophie ordered a traditional old-Earth North American-style Christmas feast. She asked me, far too many times, if that was OK with me. On the last time, I smiled slightly.
“I’d eat anything next to you.”
It was true. I really didn’t care what food she ordered. I was just glad to be here, to spend a little more time with her before she left. Never thought I’d be saying that about the coworker I’d been so opposed to welcoming in the first place.
Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she nodded without speaking. Before she finished the order, I pressed in against the screen, overriding the automatic payment set up to her account, and tapping my tablet to the screen to pay for the meal.
“Hey, you’re my guest!” Sophie complained, trying and failing to body-check me out of the way.
“Least I can do,” I said, painfully aware that her work contract had now ended.
