“What are you doing?” Nero asks me as I cross my arms and look out the windows that surround us.

“Basking in the beauty of the universe,” I say with a shrug. “It’s not as if I can do anything else. We’re stuck.”

I hear Nero hum. “You give up easily,” he says.

I want to shove him, and tell him I wish his own hope would wither fast too, for we wouldn’t be in this situation if it were the case—but that wouldn’t be elegant, and elegance is what I strive for, so I don’t say a word.

“What’s basking in the beauty of the universe?” he asks, surely after realizing I don’t plan to answer.

I sigh, I click my tongue. “You know,” I mutter, “it’s when one glances forward, out at the horizon, and asks himself where he will be tomorrow, in a year. And… what the point in all this pointless wandering is.”

“I don’t think I know.” Nero tilts his head. The escape pod rumbles. My heart stops for a moment, but it seems we are still in safety’s hands… for now. “There is no point if it’s pointless, Aster,” he says.

“And you say I give up easily?”

Wait.

Why am I making friendly banter with him?

…The last thing I want to do is for us to become friends.

“I try not to worry about what is beyond my control,” Nero says. “It… seems to be something you have trouble with.” He shuffles closer to me. I do my best to stay back. “Perhaps I could help you?” he says. “In exchange, I would love for you to teach me more about this universe you are always speaking of.”

“You can’t help me.” I clutch my knees closer to my chest. Our surroundings are bleak and deprived of light now, and there are barely any stars to speak of—at least, none that I can see. “You almost got us killed,” I mutter. “What would you know?”

“Hm.” Nero huffs. His foot somehow ends up nudging mine. “You’re very dramatic,” he says. “We’re still here. We didn’t die.”

My hand balls into a fist. “Yes,” I say behind gritted teeth, “but we could have died.”

He tilts his head again. “That is important even though the end result was not death?”

“Heavens, of course it is, Nero! Why are you this clueless?”

Nero pulls away from me. Despite the small amount of space we are forced to share, he has made it so that we aren’t touching anymore. And this time, he’s the one hugging his legs, and looking downward at the floor like a beaten-up stray. “I’m sorry, Aster…” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to make so many people angry. I… only wanted to have a bit of fun.”

I scratch the back of my head. A well of pity grows within my gut once I remember they didn’t ever intend to raise him as they would with a person—a tool, that’s what they had told me when I first laid my eyes on him—he is a tool, and nothing more.

Yet, does this still hold true?

“Yes, well…” I sigh.” I suppose I can partially relate to that.”

“You…” Nero pauses. He gasps. “You can?”

I scoff and bury my chin deeper into my knees. Distant memories of my childhood, the palace, flood my mind. “What did you think I was? A robot?”

“I… don’t know,” Nero mumbles. “You must be special, I think.”

“Why?”

“Your markings… and… those sparkly blue triangles that are always floating in front of your forehead. Where do they come from?”

I gulp.

Dare I tell him this is only face-paint, a hologram, and nothing more?

Nero leans in again; it seems he does not know the meaning of personal space. “Aster?”

This is ridiculous.

“Yes, yes, what is it this time?”

“My… my question…”

“I’m tired,” I say. Although it is closer to the truth than a lie, for some reason, my conscience is kicking my behind and telling me I shouldn’t have said that.

Or maybe it was the tone in which I told him these words?

Maybe.

I don’t know.

Am I too aggressive?

It’s not like I care about the impression I’ll make on him, I just want to be sure he has no reason to attack me.

“Nero…”

“Yes, Aster?”

“Could you… could you move to the left again? Just a tad? Your elbow it’s… digging into my back.”

Nero doesn’t reply, yet he cooperates nevertheless as we shift into a more comfortable position.

“Um…” Nero’s shoulders deflate. “Can you…” Before I have a chance to understand his last words, his voice trails off and perishes like the last spark of a flame.

I frown. “Can I what?”

He points at my feet. “Your ankle. It… is very close to mine.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

Oh!

So he does have a sense of personal space after all.

“Of course. Consider it done,” I say.

“But you have not done it yet?”

“It’s…” I cringe. “Gods, it’s nothing, forget about what I said. There, is it better now?”

Nero nods. “Very.” He smiles too, and it makes my heart do things I didn’t think it could still do after all this time. Surely though, I’m only nervous because he’s dangerous.

It’s nothing more.

I shut my eyes and shake my head.

That’s right—absolutely nothing.

He’s nothing.

I feel nothing for him.