Love Sex and the Flavors of Immortality

There was a kind of coolness in the air that only now became apparent to their bodies, lying naked atop the sheets and glistening with sweat. It had been a good time, but now they were coming down from their temporary highs.

One, on the left, thought that it was too bad they weren’t drunk. The other one, meanwhile, wore the pinched eyebrows and wrinkled forehead of someone disillusioned with ephemeral pleasures. Having noticed this depressed contemplation, the one on the left sat up abruptly, wide-eyed, and frowning: “You know, just because you can’t die doesn’t mean we can’t have a reasonable relationship!”

The non-question was answered with another non-question:

“You must be joking. No, surely you aren’t actually joking, because everyone I have ever loved either died in my arms, or left me broken-hearted. A lifetime " lifetimes " of heartbreak are no joke!”

A brief silence fell, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of the one on the left, deciding. Eyes closing, a deep breath, and hesitant eyelids crawling back up again: “I can’t die either, you know.”

The furrowed eyebrows sat up, facing the now unblinking eyes. A trembling lower lip and a sharp inhale showed the pain of someone whose darkest flaw was cruelly mocked. More silence until the one on the left spoke again, intending to reassure.

“I promise, it is real. Come now, you must have suspected something before! I have sought you out, time and time again, for centuries, and you loved me so deeply every time… so often, I was sure that you could sense … something?”

The eyebrows rose in incredulity and horror that was far beyond the hurt of cheap mockery.

“It couldn’t have been you all along. It’s not possible…”

“What, because I occupied different bodies? You heal. I… travel… from one body to another.”

“You have… possessed people? All of the people I have been with?”

“Well, not possessed, but yes! Well, almost all " you’ve strayed just a bit, my dear, just a bit!” A giddy laugh faded quickly as it was met with a seething glare. “Well. You must understand why I kept this from you. This body is the only one you ever shared your secret with. And to think " I was so terrified of you when, a decade after our first run together, I see you again, and it’s really you! It was a shock, a big one, but it’s okay, because you can’t help who you are. Neither can I.” A pause, and the last smile in the room was gone, replaced with a worried frown. “Say something. Come on, talk to me.”

“What happened to the people?”

”What?”

”The ones whose bodies you… hijack"”

”Shared. They are fine. They continue their lives. This isn’t like possession, more like a shallow hypnosis. They can’t do anything they wouldn’t do anyway, and I can’t pull the strings the entire time. They have most of the control, and they agree to this, what’s more.”

“They agree to it?”

“Yes, I ask them. Well, to ask, I need to take over a bit. Some become frightened, but not much " I’ve gotten better at… introducing myself. And when someone tells me to get out forever, I do. You underestimate the number of lost, confused, aimless people who want only to be handheld through the hard parts of life until they can ride the inertia again. That’s what I do: I help them " just as they help me.”

“Help you… to be with me?”

“And survive. But yes, mostly to be with you.” Another unreciprocated laugh. “Come on, I’m sorry, I said I was sorry, what more do you want?”

“I want this feeling of helplessness to go away. I want to know that I can say ‘no’ to you, without you coming back as someone new and lying to me. Again.”

Both halves of the stare were hurt and terrified and flying away from one another at record speed.

“You know me. I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t lie anymore now that I’ve finally told you. I love you, you know that. If you want me to leave I will leave.”

“I want you to leave.” The words escaped without hesitation, but left behind an aftertaste of doubt and regret.

“Then I will leave,” responded the one on the left quickly, knowing of the regret, and intending to keep no such promise.

(This version cross-published on SciFinally  )