Zero closed her eyes for a long second and I waited silently.

When she opened them, the warmth was back, but underneath it was a small persistent ache that I could see and that she was not bothering to hide.

"Lukas."

"Yeah."

"I’m jealous."

I nodded. How could I not see it? "I know."

She pouted and said, "I am very, very jealous. I am not going to pretend I’m not. I gave you my blessing for Mira and I meant it, and I gave you my blessing for the harem and I meant that too, and I am still, right now, thinking very hard about the fact that I am the one who could not be the first."

My voice softened, "Zero."

She put her fingers on my lips and said, "Don’t apologize for it. You can’t apologize for that. It’s not your fault. It’s mine, my strength’s, my body’s. I know. I’m just...I’m telling you. I want you to know."

I cupped her face in both hands, "Hey."

"Mm."

"You’re going to be the first that matters." 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

She smiled sweetly, "Smooth, sugar boy."

I smiled, "It’s true. I love Mira, a lot actually and I’m also quite fond of Lia, though there’s no love between us. But it was you who brought me out of my cave. No one can take your place in my heart. Never forget that you’re the first women I fell for."

She made a small sound that was halfway between a laugh and something else, and tipped her forehead against mine again, and held it there, "Lukas."

"Yes."

She grinned, "The day I figure out how to do this without breaking you in half is going to be a very, very long day for both of us."

"I’m counting on it."

"I’m warning you in advance."

"Noted. Filed and Looking forward."

"Mm." She kissed me, soft this time, careful. The careful Zero. The held-back Zero. The one who was working on it. "Come inside. Tell me about them. I want to hate them properly. Then I want to be happy for them, because they got you, and that means they’re luckier than they know. In that order. Both."

"...In that order."

"Mm. Both."

I followed her inside.

...

The safehouse was warmer than it had been when I had left. Zero had done something with the small heater in the corner, and there was a kettle on, and the cot in the back room was made up with a clean blanket folded at the foot. The whole place had the look of someone who had been settling.

She caught my eye on the cot. "Ruby’s been here. Sitting. She doesn’t sleep on it."

"Where does she sleep?" I asked in confusion.

"On the floor, beside it. I caught her at it last night. I told her the cot was hers. She apologized, moved up onto it, and as far as I can tell stayed there for about an hour, and then moved to the floor again sometime in the small hours. So. We have work to do."

"Damnation. How is she otherwise?"

"Quiet. Eats when I tell her to eat, drinks when I tell her to drink. Won’t initiate anything. I gave her some of my spare clothes because the white shirt is, uh, not coming back from where it was. She thanked me three times for the shirt." Zero shook her head once. "She’s still in there. Mostly. Just under a lot of broken glass."

I asked, thinking of her physique, "Have you thought about the gene primer?"

"I have. She’s too underweight right now. The primer needs reserves to work with, otherwise it just burns through what’s there. Two weeks of solid food first, minimum. Then we can talk about it. Earth food helps. It’s real protein, real calories." Zero gave me a look. "Speaking of which."

"Yes."

"You smell like two women but I know you didn’t come empty-handed. What did you bring?"

I set the cooler on the counter. ’Apocalypse-side girlfriend’s love language: groceries. Filing this. Possibly using it in new Chapters of the new novel.’

"Eggs. Bread. Block of butter. Two pieces of beef. Half a chicken. Cheese, two kinds. Onions. Garlic. A whole bag of rice. Coffee, the good one. And a small jar of strawberry jam, because I had a feeling."

Zero closed her eyes and made a small sound of pure appreciation. "Sugar boy."

"Mm."

"Marry me."

"Soon."

She laughed, kissed my shoulder through the shirt, and turned to put the kettle off. "Go see her. I’ll be in here."

I went to see her.

...

Ruby was sitting in the spot Zero had told me she would be sitting in, on the small wooden stool by the window in the front room, her hands folded in her lap, knees together, eyes fixed somewhere out past the broken skyline at nothing in particular.

She was wearing one of Zero’s spare shirts. It was three sizes too big. She had cinched it at the waist with a length of cord. Her hair had been washed at some point in the last twenty-four hours and tied back, and the grime that had been ground into her was, mostly, gone.

Underneath the grime, she had been pretty in a way I hadn’t been able to see yesterday, soft features, wide-set eyes, a small upturned nose. She was also, even more obviously now that the dirt was off, painfully thin.

She heard me come in and turned her head, slow, like she was making sure she’d heard right before committing to the motion.

"Lukas." Her voice was quiet, same automatic tone as yesterday.

Still, I kept a smile and asked, "Hey, Ruby. Sleep okay?"

"...Yes."

"On the floor?"

A small flush came over her face, "...A little."

"It’s alright. We’ll work on it." I crossed the room and sat down on the floor beside the stool, deliberately lower than her, leaving the high seat to her. "I brought food from home so I’m going to cook. You hungry?"

She nodded mildly, "...Yes."

"How hungry?" I asked.

"...Very."

"That’s the right answer." I gave her a small smile. "Come help me, if you want. You don’t have to. But it might be nicer than sitting alone here."

She looked at the stool for a second, then at me, then she got up. She moved like someone who was pretending she did not feel her own bones.

She followed me to the kitchen, silent as always.

...

I let her pick which onion to chop. It was a small thing, but I watched her face when I put two in front of her and asked which one looked better, and the way she stalled, considered, picked, was the first thing I had seen her do that resembled a preference.

She picked the smaller one. "...This one. The other one looks tired."

"Onions can look tired?" I blinked in surprise.

"...My grandmother used to say it." She paused. "Before."

I chuckled softly, "She sounds like she knew her onions."

"...She did."

I cooked and she stood next to me at the counter with the small knife I gave her, slowly making her way through the small onion in uneven cubes.

She did not chat. She did not apologize for the cubes. She just worked, with the careful attention of someone who hadn’t been given a knife in years.

I made breakfast-for-lunch. Eggs scrambled in butter, slow, with a little pinch of the cheese folded in at the end. Toast with the strawberry jam. Two pieces of beef seared hot in a pan and sliced thin.

A small handful of fruit from the second cooler I hadn’t opened yet, because of course I was going to bring fresh fruit too, who did Zero think she was dating.

I set three plates.

I made sure Ruby’s portion was the largest.