“Dear. You’ve been avoiding me.”

A hand drifted over her shoulder.

#2134 – is she #2134 today? – turned. A pseudo-skin mask again, but eyes the same as hers stared back. Dreary. Downcast. Dark as ink, as the all-consuming midnight they’ve all read about but never seen.

“Good morning. I’m afraid I don't quite understand what you need help with.”

“I– sorry? Are you mad at me?”

“I apologize for giving you that impression–”

“Hey! Stop that. I– did I do something? You don't have to act like we’re strangers or– or use your customer service voice on me.”

Oh dear. Is she using the wrong mask today?

“Sorry darling. What about this? Come on, I know you’ve been waiting.” Ten smiled back, lips curled sweetly over the endearment that had once troubled her so.

“Wha– No! I wasn’t asking you to-to pretend or whatever, I just meant be your normal self!”

“Myself?” Linlin frowned. “What about myself? Oh! A-Po always said–”

“What–”

“–I’ve got the truest eyes. Ma says we should marry. What do you think about next Saturday? You’re twenty five already, for goodness’ sake.”