"You can have my heart," C. says. They laugh like it's an inside joke.

"I don't have time for this. Please just tell me, so we can get this over with."

"Showing would be easier."

They get off the ledge and walk towards you. So briefly it could have been a mistake, C. gently touches your hand.

"I do like you," C. says. "I think you should know that."

Then they step back. The clock ticks. Time moves slowly, as if you're both underwater. You're waiting, studying each other solemnly. It feels strangely like last rites. You have a sinking feeling that this will change things forever.

They unbutton their pajama top, and then—as your mouth drops—they unzip their skin. Underneath, it's all shining, gleaming metal. Their flesh lays discarded by the ground like rubber.

And then, as you're falling forward, sinking into unconsciousness—time stops altogether.

TO BE CONTINUED