Chapter 5 - New home

He extended a hand toward me.

I blinked a few times, my eyes adjusting to the light. Slowly, I lifted an arm from the pod and didn't think much as I placed my hand in his, my mind still hazy.

My cold fingers melted into the warmth of his hand. The next second, my entire body slipped out of the pod in one smooth, effortless motion. It was like sinking into a warm bath.

The mist rippled and settled in a cool layer at our feet. It felt like my joints and muscles were getting gently lubricated as every small movement became fluid and easy.

Our eyes met for the first time.

Both of us quietly studied the other for a moment. He was tall, just a bit taller than me, with broad shoulders. A few strands of jet-black hair, seeming too long already, framed his face.

His sharp narrow black eyes on me gave away... nothing.

"Hello," I said.

His pupils shuddered, his expression looking guarded.

His fingers around mine gripped tightly, his stiff arm extending as much as possible. It felt like he had no intention of closing the distance between us. If anything, he gave the impression that he wanted to widen it even more.

Just as I was thinking it, he pulled his hand away from mine and drew his arm behind his back. His other hand reached the pocket of his high-waisted tailored pants and pulled out a pair of round glasses.

For the first time, his eyes left mine as he cleaned the lenses against his white shirt. I noticed his cheekbones, high and defined, casting shadows that moved when he turned his head.

"How should I call you?" he asked, sliding the glasses up the bridge of his nose.

His eyes blinked several times, narrowing even more on me as if seeing me more clearly now.

"My name is Sade," I answered, my voice sounding so confident it felt like it belonged to someone else. I still couldn't shake that feeling of being a guest in my body.

"Sade," he repeated with a small nod.

He adjusted the temples of his glasses again, and I recognized the kind of glasses these were. I'd seen staff use that type at the clinic. They were similar to screens, displaying interfaces on the lenses and even transmitting sound through the bones, only audible to the person wearing them.

He extended his other arm, showing the space around us.

"This is your bedroom."

At the center of the room stood a large bed draped in warm yellow sheets, with two orange lights floating on either side. The walls were painted a soft pastel orange, completely bare except for a line of warm light subtly concealed where the ceiling met the walls. Opposite the bed, it seemed to be storage space, like hidden doors seamlessly integrated into the wall.

I looked around the room, knowing my first task as a Love Machina was to familiarize myself with the owner's residence. I took in every detail before my eyes returned to him.

It seemed like he had been observing me all along.

For a split second, he looked startled that I had noticed, but the next moment, his face had already rebuilt its cold composure.

"Follow me," he said in a stern voice. "I'll show you the rest."

He turned around, and I followed. The bodysuit stuck to my body, its sleek fabric reflecting the light.

I clasped my hands together on my navel and my fingers squished together. Why did it feel like he didn't like me already? I was so used to the kind staff of the clinic that I had never even considered this possibility.

The mission might not be as easy as I had imagined.

He opened the door to a spacious hallway with dark brown wooden floors. It looked like a balcony. From there, I could see the level below: a wide entryway, a kitchen, and the beginnings of a large, open living room.

"This door is the bathroom," he said, showing the first door we passed. "We have to share it. I hope you don't mind."

He adjusted the temples of his glasses again, his gaze flicking toward me with another unreadable expression. It didn't sound like a question, so I only nodded, feeling tense now.

This growing sense of unease wasn't because of sharing a bathroom. I had always shared everything with coworkers at the clinic. No, the uneasiness came from the slow realization I was having.

"This part is mine," he continued in his clipped tone, gesturing toward the far end of the hallway. His arm stretched behind him as his eyes followed the path.

I took one step closer, leaning slightly to his side as I tried to look at what he was referring to. That part of the hallway was dimly lit, feeling far less inviting than the other parts.

He turned back around, and it seemed he hadn't expected me to have gotten so close behind him. He jumped back, his hands clenched into tight fists, pulling them to his chest as if to protect himself.

I couldn't help it: my eyebrows rose high on my forehead, not sure of how to interpret that. It seemed clear he wasn't comfortable with me being so close, or even just with me being here.

"Y-You're forbidden to go there," he stammered, his voice faltering for the first time. A startled expression flickered across his face again. "Except... well, I guess..." He cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. "Except if... invited."

I drew in a sharp breath.

There it was.

The uneasiness grew larger as I realized now.

It was just him and me.

Although he was the only one greeting me as I exited the pod, I had secretly hoped he would be part of a family. If I could have chosen, I wish I could have been sent to a large household, one with many children. We always played house at the clinic, all longing to experience what it felt like to be part of a family.

But now, I have finally realized, it would only be him.

The good thing was, he seemed just as unsettled as I was. Running a hand over his face, he turned and walked toward the white staircase.

I followed behind, a strange sensation settling over me as I placed one foot carefully in front of the other, my movements slow and deliberate.

I reminded myself of what the employees of Love Machina Inc. had explained to us: we had all been matched to our owners based on the highest possible compatibility rate.

It was hard to get a clear sense of what kind of person he was, but whoever he was, I was the best suited to help him.

This had to make sense, at some point.

The stairs curved along the corner of the wall, and as I reached the bottom, my attention was drawn to a large window stretching along the opposite side.

The lush leaves I had seen through the window upstairs slopped down to the ones below. I had never seen vegetation so dense and so close to me before. I wished I could have run to the window and pressed my face against the glass, but I knew it wouldn't be appropriate now.

I got to the last step of the staircase, catching his stare on me again. Just like I had been busy discovering my new surroundings, he had been watching me as I made my way down.

What if I wasn't deceiving him? Was he suspecting something?

But no, his expression was still blank and guarded, offering no hint of what he might be thinking.

"The kitchen," he said, motioning to the room in the corner. "And the living room."

He walked past a thin glass divider that separated the kitchen from the living room, and I quietly followed.

Like the bedroom upstairs, the living room had floor-to-ceiling windows that faced a wall covered in millions of tiny green leaves. Well, except for one section.

The glass angled inward at one corner, forming a small square nook that seemed to draw the outside in. My eyes lingered there, expecting more greenery, but that space was only dark, dry soil. This was the barren ground I was familiar with, the only kind I had seen at the clinic and around it.

"I have to go to work," his voice broke through my thoughts.

I turned and saw him slipping a brown satchel over his shoulder, his other hand holding a jacket. His face showed no emotion again, but his eyes were still sharp on me.

"I'll be back... later," he said.

Without another word or even a glance in my direction, he walked to the wide entrance door, opened it, and left.

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