Not Just a Guest

Steam wafted through the kitchen air. Audra warily watched the source of it—a pot of noodles—bubble from her seat at the table.

They'd gotten done with the tour a few minutes ago, and honestly? The place wasn't too bad.

Zeph's house was on the smaller side and sparsely furnished, but it had what it needed. There was a living room, kitchen, bathroom, and an office and storage space upstairs. The only thing that Audra didn't like was that there was only one bedroom.

That had set off alarms again. But Zeph had assured her he'd be sleeping on the couch to accommodate her.

The ground rules were surprisingly scant: don't use the arc welder or the material printers in the workshop solo, and be reasonable.

That was it. Nothing else.

She'd said she could just snatch something if nowhere was off limits, but he'd said he could tell she wasn't the type to do it intentionally—emphasis on the last part.

That'd made her mad, because she couldn't backtalk without sounding like a jerk.

Now? The two of them were waiting in the kitchen as Zeph made ramen.

"So." Zeph finally broke the silence and leaned against the counter. "You got any food allergies I should know about?"

"Just shellfish, I guess. Why?"

"Basic things. Making sure that you don't keel over from a stray shrimp or something. Ah, and you're not lactose intolerant, are you?"

"Not at all."

"Good to hear. We're all set then."

He rummaged through the cupboard, pulled out a package of freeze-dried toppings, then dumped it into the pot.

"…" Melancholy drifted in with the steam.

For some reason, the way Zeph moved reminded her a little of Dad.

Audra shook her head. Crap. She didn't want to think about that. Not now.

She distracted herself by analyzing the man before her in greater detail.

Zeph was weird, but not in a bad way. His body language was relaxed most of the time, but his eyes were sharp, and his gaze was focused whenever their eyes met.

It made her vaguely uncomfortable, like he'd already figured her out completely, despite there being no discernable way for him to know. It wasn't creepy or threatening though, just a curious and overly observant one.

At the very least, he hadn't said anything bad about her bionics yet, so he was better than most.

She didn't have to wait too much longer until the noodles were done. Zeph slid a bowl of it and some ice water in front of her.

"Eat up." He handed her a pair of chopsticks before sitting down with his own bowl. "It's not gourmet, but it'll hopefully do."

"…" She stared at the utensils awkwardly, as if she had been offered alien technology.

She'd seen people use chopsticks before on TV, but she'd never actually used them herself.

She attempted to pick up a bite from the bowl, too proud to admit that out loud.

She managed to do somewhat okay and got the noodles to her mouth, but as soon as they touched her lips, it slipped through and splashed back, getting hot broth onto her non-bionic hand.

"Shit!"

"Careful." Zeph slid her a napkin. "Are you okay? Is there anything wrong with your hand?"

"I'm… fine, and it has nothing to do with my hands." She avoided his gaze, pressing her hand against the coldness of her glass.

She didn't need his pity. She wasn't a child.

That last thought made her flinch.

If she wasn't a child, why was she acting like one now? She could've avoided scalding herself just by asking for a fork.

She swallowed her wounded pride with a gulp.

"Zeph… I um, can't use chopsticks."

"Oh." Zephyr simply raised an eyebrow. "You should've said so earlier. But that's a surprise; where are you from?"

"Portland," she answered on impulse, more focused on cooling down her fingers than filtering her responses.

"Ah. Well let me just get you a fork then. Sorry for assuming you knew how."

Audra didn't detect any sarcasm in his tone, but the sting of shame hit her hard. In a way, the apology was like a challenge.

"W-wait. Can you teach me?"

He turned around from the cupboards. "Hm?"

"You heard me. Teach me how to use them—the chopsticks… Please."

Surprise flashed in his eyes before a light smile softened them.

"I guess, since you asked so nicely."

He made his way back to the table and held his own chopsticks out to her, positioning his fingers.

"This is how you hold them. You can rest the bottom stick on your ring finger and hold it in place with your thumb. It should be mostly stationary. Now move the top one. Hold it between your index and middle finger, then pivot it along the side of your thumb. Got that?"

"I think so?"

It was awkward at first, but after a few attempts she managed to pick up a single noodle. A few more attempts, and she brought it to her mouth without it slipping away.

"Good job. Now, try again, but this time, try to get more than a single one. It's easier to grab a bunch of them at once."

She did as instructed, picking up several noodles and bringing them to her mouth. It was still clumsy, and a few slipped away, but she managed to eat most of it this time.

"Not bad for a beginner. You'll get the hang of it in no time." He gave her a thumbs up. "Also, I couldn't help but notice, but I'm assuming you're right-handed?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Just curious. I knew some people that replaced their dominant hand with a prosthetic. Was wondering if it was a similar case for you."

She glanced at her cybernetic left arm and frowned.

However… Zeph's tone was more curious than anything. It also possessed the proper tact that others lacked.

"Yeah, well, I never had to worry about that. I've had this thing since… Never mind. Let's just say that I'm used to it."

"You've had it for a while then, I take it?"

"Long enough."

The sun finished setting and the world outside turned dark. The only sounds were the clink of chopsticks on ceramic and the slurp of noodles as they ate.

Despite the awkwardness though, there was something calming about the quiet between them.

Hm, maybe this wasn't so bad after all—

Zephyr finished his noodles with a slurp, leaning back in his chair.

"So, uh, you're from Portland?"

She'd spoke too soon.

"I thought you weren't trying to pry."

"Eh, I'm not trying to be nosy; I swear. I'm just… trying to make small talk here. If you don't want to, that's fine. It's just hard not to be curious. I haven't been there since '89."

Audra briefly appraised him as she finished slurping her own noodles. She supposed there wasn't any real harm in telling him about her hometown. It wasn't exactly a secret anymore.

"Well… the food is great, there's a ton of nature, the people are mostly friendly, and the architecture is cool. Plus, the weather can be pretty nice at times, though it rains a lot."

"You sound like you liked living there."

"I, uh… Yeah, it was pretty nice. It wasn't perfect or anything, but I wouldn't have traded it for another home."

"…Sounds like you miss it."

"I mean, I like the place. But I didn't want to stay there."

"Why not?"

Her eyes glazed at the empty bowl in front of her. She didn't feel like getting into reasons right now, so she just tossed him a vague answer.

"Because there's nothing for me there anymore."

Silence.

When Audra glanced back up, his expression had become unreadable again. It was like he was gazing at some faraway place.

"Uh, is everything okay? Did I say something wrong?"

He blinked and shook his head. "Oh. No. Just… thinking."

He stood and grabbed the dishes, carrying them over to the sink.

"I just think I know the feeling."

She watched as he rinsed them. His hands moved deftly. However, his posture was stiff, and his movements were a little tense.

On instinct, she got up and nudged him out of the way, snatching the sponge from his hand.

"Here, let me help you with those."

"H-hey, hold on. What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? Washing the dishes."

"But you're a guest."

Audra was already working up a lather.

"Yeah, well. I'm not going to be a freeloader. This is the least I can do since you're letting me stay. Besides, if you're as old as you say, then it's better if I did it. Leave it to the young and all."

That got a chuckle out of him.

"Pft. Okay. Are you sure though?"

"You insinuating that I don't know how to do chores?"

"No, not at all. It's just… guests don't usually offer to wash the dishes."

"Well, consider me an exception. Now go ahead and do old people stuff. Sit on the sofa and read the news or whatever old farts do."

He snorted.

"Old fart? Really? Need I remind you I was born in 2040, a very hyper time to be alive. We had glamour, the neo-retro 1970s revival, and the second great grunge era—"

Audra flicked some soapy water at him.

"You're convincing me too well. Please leave."

Zephyr raised his hands in surrender under the foamy onslaught. "Fine, I'll be in the living room after you're done then. Don't break any of the bowls."

Audra's cheeks rose a little.

"I'll try not to, Zeph."