I felt rather refreshed the morning after, and it wasn’t even like we’d actually done it. However, perhaps in the same way that I slept hugging that plushie the first night, my sleep quality tripled when I shared a bed with a drop-dead gorgeous woman who was also cuddlier than most cats.

  Fir climbed over me as soon as she woke up, and although she tried not to, she still made me open my eyes. Perhaps without realizing that, she started her morning with some stretches, some of them pretty standard, some of them...

  Lady, why have you forsaken me? I am in the completely wrong angle to witness Fir stretching her legs and back like a cat. Is this my punishment for putting the Pikita plushie on the bedside table? Is that why it gets a better view than I do? I will remember this tragedy longer than I will the starship crash...

  Before I knew it, Fir had finished stretching and walked to the room’s door. She then stopped and came back, staring at me as I pretended to sleep. The next thing I heard was the ruffling of her movements on the bed, followed by a ticklish breeze. I opened my eyes to find Fir sniffing me and then rubbing her head against mine while crouched on the ground. Was this her way to wake me up?

  I gave up and opened my eyes, which caused her to give me a little smile. She was at the perfect height, so my hand instinctively went to give her some pats. Fir responded with a goofy 3-shaped smirk. She must have already convinced some part of me to treat her like a domestic animal...

  “Let’s get breakfast,” I said, putting my feet on the ground.

  We gathered at our improvised dining table in the storage bay. I ducked my head into the hole that the mercenary had progressively made by eating the contents of this food container; and grabbed two boxes that depicted something akin to a decent breakfast.

  I gave Fir one of them, and her expression immediately became one of confusion.

  “Food, this?” She spun it around and checked every side, unable to read the text on the wrapping. She did see the picture, though: “No food. This, drawing!” Her ears drooped as she looked back at me.

  I chuckled and she answered with a pout, as if she’d caught me playing a prank on her. I brought out a box cutter and sliced the tape holding the package together. Then I took off the lid, which was made of the same rough, papery plastic as the rest of the container.

  “Ooh!” Fir’s ears stood back up, her tail swinging around and tapping against my left thigh as she looked from beside me. I placed the tray in the microwave, and she proceeded to watch the plate spin as if doing so would make it cook faster.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  She was so focused that she didn’t notice me slowly getting behind her to tickle her sides. “Mya!?” She squeaked, but the microwave played an electronic tune and she immediately forgot about it.

  I placed the food on our ‘table’ like a fancy restaurant’s waiter, and she hurried to sit down with the same inhuman speed she’d fought that robot woman yesterday. A set of fork, spoon, and knife had been printed into the tray, held together by little supports like the parts of a model kit. I snapped them off and handed them to Fir.

  She was confused by the knife and fork, but she immediately recognized the spoon. Perhaps they had something similar in her homeland? I suppose “small bowl at the end of a stick” is not precisely space-age technology.

  Before she could dig in, I grabbed her left wrist and placed the knife in it. A bit flustered, she looked to me and muttered, “Mark?” quizzically. Instead of explaining, I had her poke a hole in the balloon-like compartment that held one of the servings in place.

  It made a satisfying “pop” noise, followed by the soft hissing of the bacon heating up. In the same instant, the wrapping spread open like a flower and stuck to the tray, as if it’d never existed in the first place. I didn’t buy these very often, but I was familiar enough with this example of overengineered, yet practical technology.

  Fir’s ears twitched once the scent of the food reached her nostrils. She politely looked at me, but I waved and told her to start without me. I opened another box and placed the tray into the microwave.

  “Tasty!” She reported with a big smile. There was a bit of food stuck to her lips. I had a primal impulse to go there and lick it off… but we certainly weren’t that close yet. I nodded and tried to keep my cheeks from turning red.

  We couldn’t chat much while eating. I’d have to bring my terminal out to explain anything complicated. However, I did want to know more about Fir. What could I ask her about with the few words she knew? I came up with something, but when my eyes tried to meet hers, I found her spacing out with a gloomy expression on her face.

  “Fir? You alright?”

  “Oh! Ah… Yes?” An uncharacteristically weak smile formed as she answered me.

  “You, sad?” I softly asked her, but I hadn’t taught her this word yet. I typed a crying emoji onto my terminal’s note app and zoomed into it for her.

  “Oh. No, no.” She quickly answered, waving both of her hands. “I…” Fir looked down, but didn’t complete her sentence. “Nothing. Fir, okay.” In the end, she affirmed this while shaking her head.

  I nodded and Fir relaxed, focusing on her food once more. But I wasn’t actually planning to forget about this.

  It’s not like I was in a mood to jump and dance either. We were still lost in the middle of nowhere. However, even since our first heart-to-heart when we met, she’d been pretty resolute.

  “… Perhaps she’s just been pretending to be alright, for both of our sakes.”

  “Hmm?” Fir’s ears twitched, even though I was barely whispering. I took one last bite of my food and stood up.

  “I’m gonna work on something today.”