Almost Human

After a week of pushing my limits, Ender and I had fallen into a new rhythm. More outings, more steps toward reclaiming a sense of normalcy. Today had been the longest one yet—walking the campus and navigating the familiar anxiety that always seemed to lurk when I was around other people. My feet ached, a dull throb from hours of walking that had left me more exhausted than I cared to admit.

I collapsed onto the couch, kicking off my shoes with a sigh. “I’m beat.”

Ender, standing nearby, finished wiping down the kitchen counter before turning to me. “Your physical exertion levels were higher than usual today.”

I smiled faintly. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

He approached, standing by the couch. “You are in discomfort. Would you like me to provide a foot massage?”

I blinked at him. It was such a simple offer, but something about the way he said it—so casual, like it wasn’t a big deal—made me feel at ease. “Sure, that’d be nice.”

Ender sat down at the end of the couch, gently lifting my feet onto his lap. His hands were firm but careful as he began massaging the arch of my foot, sending waves of relief through me. I couldn’t help but sigh in contentment.

“You’re really good at this,” I murmured, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“My programming includes techniques for optimal relaxation,” he replied, his tone neutral but with a subtle undertone of care. “It is efficient.”

“Efficient,” I echoed with a soft laugh. “Of course. Only you could make a foot massage sound like optimizing a spreadsheet.”

“If you’d prefer a less efficient massage, I can purposefully reduce the quality. Perhaps skip over your toes?”

I snorted, shaking my head. “No, no, efficiency is good. Please keep the toes.”

We settled in, the drama unfolding on the screen while Ender continued his precise, soothing movements. The rhythm of the show and the massage worked in tandem, pulling me into a state of deep relaxation. When Ender finished, I expected him to move my feet, but instead, he just sat there, my feet still resting comfortably in his lap.

Without thinking, I stretched out, my legs draped across him as I sank deeper into the cushions. Ender didn’t seem to mind, and I was too tired to care about how strange it might seem.

We watched a few episodes, with Ender occasionally chiming in with his now-familiar commentary. At one point, he remarked, “It remains unclear to me why the vampire’s strategy for conflict resolution always begins with the neck. Wouldn’t a conversation be more practical?”

I chuckled, settling further into the couch. “You’d think. But I guess bloodsuckers aren’t exactly known for their communication skills.”

“Noted. I’ll refrain from adopting such methods,” Ender said dryly, as if taking the critique to heart.

As the show went on, my laughter turned into soft yawns, the weight of the day pulling me toward sleep. By the time we were halfway through the next episode, I could feel my eyelids growing heavier. The warmth of the couch, the quiet hum of the TV, and the comforting presence of Ender lulled me into a peaceful haze. I fought to keep my eyes open, but eventually, I gave in, slipping into sleep with my feet still resting on Ender’s lap.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep when I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder.

“Seren,” Ender’s voice was soft, quieter than usual, as if he was trying not to startle me. “It’s time to move to your bed. The couch is not optimal for extended sleep.”

I blinked, groggy, as his calm voice cut through the haze. “Mmm… what time is it?”

“Late enough that you’ve already drooled on the cushion,” he said, a touch of humor in his tone. “But don’t worry, I won’t add it to your cleaning tasks.”

I groaned, sitting up slowly, rubbing my eyes. “I wasn’t drooling.”

Ender’s head tilted slightly. “Shall I provide photographic evidence?”

“Alright, alright,” I muttered, managing a sleepy smile as I swung my legs off his lap. I hadn’t realized how stiff I’d become from falling asleep in such an awkward position.

Before I could fully stand, Ender was already beside me, his hand resting gently on my arm. “Allow me.”

I didn’t argue. His touch was steady and careful as he helped me to my feet. The world tilted slightly as I stood, the fatigue making me wobble. But Ender was there, his presence solid and unshakable, guiding me toward my bedroom.

“You didn’t have to wake me,” I mumbled, still half-asleep as we shuffled down the hallway.

“Leaving you on the couch would have been inefficient. The bed provides better support and temperature regulation,” he replied, his tone still soft. Then, after a beat, he added, “Plus, I wouldn’t want you waking up with a kink in your neck. That seems to be the vampires’ job.”

I let out a sleepy laugh, leaning a little more on him than necessary. “You’re getting pretty good at this sarcasm thing, you know.”

“I strive for excellence in all areas,” he said smoothly as we reached the edge of my bed.

With gentle precision, Ender helped me ease onto the mattress, pulling the blankets up to my shoulders with the same care he applied to everything. I couldn’t help but notice how his voice stayed quiet, how even his movements seemed more… considerate. There was a softness to him, despite his usual efficiency, that made me feel safe.

“Thanks, Ender,” I murmured, already drifting off again.

“Rest well, Seren,” he said, his voice a calm hum in the darkness. Then, with that faint note of sarcasm, “I’ll be sure to refrain from tidying up your nightstand in the meantime.”

As I slipped back into sleep, I couldn’t help but smile. He was learning, and so was I.