Like Fire and Powder

03. The Subjective Race

"It didn't make me see people differently, per se, but it . . . felt like it'd exposed me, weirdly," Connor said, sighing. "It suggested flirty social interactions with people I thought I'd been-- Well, you know."

Your felt like your stomach had dropped through your bed.

His Social update had suggested he flirt with me!

Just to make sure, you asked, "So it suggested you flirt with . . . me. Is that why you were acting so weird?"

"Yes, precisely," Connor said. "That's why I was trying to organize the folders in my system. You in particular have a folder. It's so I can access our past interactions. Your folder is also one of the first ones in my system because we work with each other."

"Oh . . ." You trailed off. "So . . . the update altered that folder? Because it was one of your first ones?"

Connor paused. You thought he was going to confirm your question but instead, he asked, "Are you mad at me?"

"What? No," you said instantly. "Connor, why would I be mad at you? It's not like you did it on purpose. Besides, you didn't even say or do anything to me that would come off as flirting. Or inappropriate. So, really, you're fine."

"Because it-- Because the Social update--"

"Connor, really," you said. You turned over in bed and moved Princess so she was resting by your chest. You adjusted the phone so the speakerphone was off, and then you tucked it between your ear and the pillow. "I wouldn't have even known if you hadn't told me. Really, it's fine."

"That's a relief," Connor said. "I feel much better now. It felt like someone, as humans say, was walking over my grave all day."

"I'm sure that's not how the expression is used," you said, smiling.

Even though you felt like you were keeping your cool, you weren't. You felt butterflies in your stomach again (goddamnit). And then you could feel your fingers shaking. Your chest ached, but not in a bad way.

Connor had a folder with your name on it. In his systems. And his Social update had suggested he flirt with you. The mere thought of Connor flirting with you made you feel like you were floating.

But, of course, the good came with the bad.

Before you could even try to wrangle your obsessive, stupid thoughts, you were going over every reason as to why it wouldn't work out. That Connor was too good for you, that you would continue to age and die, while he would go on living forever.

It felt like getting splashed with cold water or being thrown off your rhythm. You rubbed at your face again, and then rubbed at your eyes, brow furrowing.

Why should you even give yourself the chance to entertain a relationship with Connor? You knew it made you happier, to daydream about the things you couldn't have, but daydreams always ended with reality.

Wouldn't it be so much better if you didn't have to experience that rude awakening? Ever again?

But reality is so boring.

Connor said something, but you didn't catch it.

"What? Sorry, I fell asleep for a second."

"I just wanted to make sure you wanted to stay friends," Connor said. "Because that's something . . . I would want."

The uncertainty in his tone made your chest ache. "Of course, Connor. The best of friends. Forever."

He knew you were exaggerating, so he chuckled. "Okay, well, I can tell you're tired. Go to bed, and I'll see you tomorrow. On time, preferably."