Chapter 3: Love Training, Level One

___ was given a checklist.

Not by the scientists. By her.

She handed it to him the next morning with a satisfied grin, slapping it down on his breakfast tray like it was a government document.

“Today’s training menu. Read it and weep.”

___ scanned the paper. ___ raised an eyebrow. the note saying :1 Compliment me without sounding like you’re diagnosing me 2 Hold my hand for more than three seconds

3 Watch a romantic movie and do not analyze the plot

4 Buy me something sweet without asking for a calorie breakdown

5 Call me by a nickname

“This appears inefficient.”

“It’s called living,” she replied, stealing a piece of his toast. “Get used to it.”

The day’s first mission was: a compliment.

They walked through the facility’s enclosed garden—technically just a greenhouse with simulated sky panels and a few sad-looking benches. ___ watched her examine a flower with wonder in her eyes.

“Your face is… symmetrical,” he said, trying.

She stopped.

“Try again,” she said without turning.

“Your speech patterns are unusually stimulating?”

“Again.”

“Your presence increases my dopamine levels.”

She finally turned and gave him a half-annoyed, half-amused look. “You know what? I’ll count that last one.”

He nodded, slightly proud of himself.

Next: holding hands.

He reached out, hesitantly. She didn’t mock him this time—just took his hand gently.

___ stared down at their fingers. “It’s warm.”

“You’re not?” she asked.

He thought about it. “Maybe I am. I don’t know how to tell.”

The mission lasted twelve seconds. He set a new personal record.

Then came the romantic movie. She picked a ridiculous high school rom-com with a paper-thin plot and overacted declarations of love. ___ attempted to remain quiet.

He failed.

“That conflict could’ve been resolved with basic communication,” he said.

She shoved popcorn in his mouth.

By the end, she was teary-eyed. He, somehow, felt… something.

“They hugged,” he muttered. “At the end.”

“Yup,” she said, smiling at him.

“I think I wanted them to.”

She grinned wider. “See? You’ve got a heart in there somewhere.”

The day ended at the facility’s small commissary. He returned with a lopsided smile and a chocolate bar. “Sweet. No calorie analysis.”

She looked stunned. “You actually did it.”

Then came the hardest part.

“What should I call you?” he asked. “Your name still hasn’t been—”

“Nope. Nickname first. Use your gut.”

He stared at her, thinking.

“…Sunspot.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re unpredictable. You affect my temperature. You make normal readings spike.”

A beat of silence.

Then she laughed. Really laughed.

“Sunspot it is,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “You absolute nerd.”

And ___? He smiled without knowing why.