It was well into night by the time Sunset reached home, and the moon was hidden behind clouds, but that was okay, because it would come out again soon. She unlocked the door hesitantly, taking a deep breath before climbing the stairs to their flat. The lights were still on. Sunset hoped she hadn’t worried. She’d text her, but knew from experience that rarely helped.
The door creaked a little as she pushed it open, foiling her attempt to sneak in quietly. Twilight was lying on the couch, a book over her face, and Sunset half-hoped she’d fallen asleep, but no such luck. She looked up as Sunset came in, propping herself up on the back of the couch as she watched.
“Hey,” Sunset said as she shrugged out her jacket, hung it up on the hook, the spare one, and turned back to her girlfriend.
“Hey,” Twilight replied, pushing her glasses back on her nose.
Sunset looked around their flat, really looked, for the first time in months. The kitchen, with the plates carefully stacked by the basin, the fridge full of leftovers, the freezer full of ready-meals, the couch Twilight liked to read on and the seat Sunset had taken to using for TV. No pictures hung the walls, no bundles of wires strung the floor, no mess of any sort, save for a miniature microscope lying inexplicably on the coffee table. It was a place unlived-in, at least by her.
Sunset swallowed, and the words were difficult, hard to let out, and impossible to take back. But they had to be said, because if she didn’t say them then nothing would change. Experiment C-13 had been a success. Who knew what it could be again in the future.
“Twilight...can I talk to you a second?”