Fuck!  I had seen this scene so many fucking times—this was the emotional ending of a movie. Yeah, it was drama. But I hated them because I preferred a different brand of drama.

After this, Deen and I would drive down the empty desert road, fading to black as a song would start playing. The credits would roll afterward. Before all that, I needed to play my part here. Suck it up, Erind, and get this over with.

"Don't you ever let the Adumbrae win and take control of you," Deen said between sobbing.

My chin sat right on top of her boobs. They felt like travel neck pillows but bouncier and firm. Somehow, it felt comfortable. The warmth of her body—usually, a repulsive sensation for me—countered the cold desert night.

Is it night or day? The stupid question came back to me, and I pondered on it to distract myself. Was everything past midnight already day even though it was—Deen suddenly hugged me tighter. Her stupid breasts tilted my head up as they got squished between us.

I turned left, avoiding her face as she bent down. She was crying right next to my ear. “Deen…it’ll be okay,” I said. “Everything will be all right.”

I kept spouting these generic lines, but they felt wrong for the situation. They sounded like I was comforting someone.

Deen got emotional for my sake. If I wasn’t mistaken about how social interactions should go, she should be the one comforting me after my supposed ‘ordeal’. However, she was the one crying. I should probably also cry, but I didn’t want to. We’ll just settle for this lame hug.

"Promise me that,” Deen said. “Erind…Erind, promise me."

I stopped myself from heaving a sigh before replying with all the sincerity I could muster, "Deen, I promise you that..." What did she say I was supposed to promise her? "I promise," I repeated as I gingerly reached my arms around her. As much as I hated to do it, I had no choice but to hug her because this was part of the script.

Making more skin contact was already bad enough. But her naked back was slick with blood from the corpses she carried earlier. And I found out that the ends of her hair were matted, feeling extremely icky. I moved my hands down to avoid it. Because of the slimy blood, my arms easily slid to the small of her back as I tightened my hug.

This was an emotional moment and all that, but could we please have some sanitary regulations around here?

"I know you don't like hugging," Deen softly said. "But let me have this moment to make sure it's really you."

"It is me," I replied. What did she mean by that? Like our hearts were connected bullshit? She didn't even know the real me.

"Just a minute of hugging," she said. "And then we'll clean up."

"Okay," was all I could say. I was mentally raging as all the blood was starting to dry. I could feel it get stiff and crusty. We were getting glued together!

A minute of this was nothing, right Erind? Yeah, I could last that long. No biggie. I could endure this without ripping Deen’s skin, digging my fingers into her flesh, and pulling out her spine.

Deen didn’t react while murderous thoughts rolled through my mind; she just continued to cry. I should also be crying to complete the scene, but I was too tired to give a shit. Her Guardian Angel would've already warned her if I lost control of myself. This meant that I didn't. And I was proud of my future self for keeping my Rules.

However, my present self was the one suffering here. Maybe I should count down like people trying to fall asleep. Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight...okay, that's boring. Deen's sobbing was very distracting.

Weirdly, I was more repulsed by our physical contact than sipping her saliva—that's a fucking weird sentence. It must be because I had drunk her blood before. Sure, it was Blanchette who did it at the Eve arena, but that still counted. Simply insane how I had zero issues with…that…compared to what we were doing now.

From an objective point of view, which was more disgusting? This, right?

And Deen was okay with us hugging each other while half-naked and covered in blood? Okay, wow. I might be the normal one here. An unexpected change of pace. Although, Deen wasn't acting normally so far this night—or day—killing some of these frat guys in brutal ways.

The cold wind from the hills nearby blasted my back. The heat from Deen's body, trapped between our tight hug, was warming my front like the fucking greenhouse gas effect or something. I dunno, I didn't pay attention in science class. Nobody cared about global warming, with Adumbrae being the world’s primary concern. The Adumbrae probably helped reduce global warming by chunking the human population big time after the Second World War.

Speaking of science, I was like the planet Mercury. Hot front side, cold backside. Mercury would probably agree with me that this wasn't comfortable at all.

Is one minute already up? It felt like it was.

Damn it. I should've continued counting. Should I pull away and tell Deen it was over? Would I look like an unfeeling bitch? If I waited, Deen might hug me until the end of time.

I decided to speak, "Deen, are you okay now?"

"Ye-yes. I'm okay," she whispered in my ear. Then she pressed her face on my cheek before pulling away. "How about you?"

I could've sworn I heard a noise like ripping packaging tape as we separated. It felt like we were peeling dried glue on our skin. Removing scabs from a healed wound was very satisfying; the dried blood of other people was not. Deen didn't seem to mind, focused on me with eyes full of concern.

"I-I'm fine," I said, feigning that I was still recovering from my transformation. "A hundred percent." Then I touched my cheek. “What did you do?”

“Do what?”

“Did you…did you kiss me?” Or was I imagining it? Deen was going to make fun of me if I was wrong.

She shrugged. “Just a peck. Is something wrong?”

“Um, I didn’t think we’re like close enough for that.” Such a lame ass explanation. But I was sort of allergic to her efforts to make us closer.

“We’re best friends. What are you talking about? I was just relieved and delighted that you’re back to norm—sorry. I mean, you’re back to being you.”

“Oh, it just feels weird…I guess.”

“You’re making it weird by pointing it out.” She tried to poke my side, but I swayed my hips away to evade.

“Am I?”

“People kiss as a greeting, even to people they aren’t close to. My mother would kiss my aunts on their cheeks, making a loud smack each time. But she absolutely detests them and talks behind their—”

“Ah, you’re right,” I said. And she was. Mom sometimes kissed my cheeks, but I never returned the gesture. Maybe I should. And perhaps I wasn’t acting normal by reacting to Deen’s trivial gesture. “It’s the first time you did that, and I was surprised, kinda.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.” She grabbed my shoulders. I didn’t try to break free. She bent down again and kissed my cheek, a bit longer this time.

Amusingly enough, I didn’t have any issue with her kissing me. I hated that she was holding my shoulders more than the kiss. As best friends, something like this should be expected. I supposed my only issue was that I had some crusty blood on my cheek that she was kissing.

“See? Not so bad, isn’t it?”

“Nope.”

“And again.” She kissed my other cheek.

“Okay, cut that out now,” I said, removing her hands and stepping back.

"Just kidding,” she said, sticking out her tongue. “Anyway, you're not hungry anymore?"

What a weird question. We just ate at the diner. Maybe she was making small talk. "No, I'm not hungry. Shouldn’t we clean ourselves now?"

Deen turned on the faucet of the jug and wet the lavender towel she selected. "I'll do you first, or you do me?"

"Huh? Do you?" Wasn't that a euphemism for sex? Mine was 'bonking'. I get it. Deen was trying to mess with me again. She was probably trying to make the situation light-hearted. How considerate of her. Now, how should I respond—

"Yeah, I'll wipe you first?"

"Oh, okay." So that was what she meant. Fucking stupid misunderstanding of mine. Fortunately, I didn't say anything before she clarified herself, or she'd have ammo to tease me for eternity. Deen held my wrist and tried to pull my arm towards her. I instinctively yanked it back. "What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Wiping you first? You said ‘okay’, didn't you?"

"That wasn't what I..." It was going to be hard to explain myself here. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay with it."

She poured some rubbing alcohol over my arm and began vigorously wiping it with a wet towel.