"She signed the papers?"

Thalia asked sharply, surprise tinged her words as her fingers pause mid-tap on the tablet she had been scrolling through.

Across from her, Gregor, a mountain of a weretiger squeezed into an impeccably tailored suit, grunted his confirmation. "Yes. She signed it in the hospital this afternoon."

Thalia exhaled. "Alright. But why has she not contacted us yet?"

"That is the problem." Gregor said. "Her phone has been turned off since the afternoon. She disappeared from the hospital before our people could get to her. She was just... gone, Thalia."

Thalia frowned. Her fingers, which had been hovering over her phone, stilled entirely. "She... she might still be upset, right? She might need some alone time. How about we just wait?"

"She is pregnant." Gregor’s voice sharpened, his tiger eyes flashing. "What do you mean, we let her be? What if she is hurt?"

"She is a grown woman." Thalia said firmly. "But alright. To ease your mind," she raised a hand, cutting off his immediate protest, "how about we send people to look for her? Quietly."

Gregor pondered this. His massive shoulders, which had been tense rigid as if preparing to storm a building, relaxed by a fraction. "Yes. Let us send people."

Thalia grabbed her phone, her thumbs already flying across the screen. "By the way, how is Young Master Arzhen?"

Gregor didn’t immediately answer, but when he finally spoke, his voice was flat and tired. "He is... I don’t think he cares. Perhaps he is thinking the Madam is throwing a tantrum, trying to get his attention."

"She never did that, though." Thalia said quietly, but there was an edge to it now. "Madam is always a patient and mature person."

Gregor sneered. "He thinks everything Madam did for him is her trying to get his attention. Even though she is simply being considerate, trying to be an exceptionally good wife." His voice dripped with contempt. "Especially because everything Madam did is extraordinary."

Thalia sank onto the couch and sighed. "I just don’t understand..."

"What?" Gregor asked.

Thalia shrugged. "Like... you have such a great wife. And you choose a little bi—"

***

"WHY?!" Cecilia sobbed, her voice cracking in anguish. "WHY DO YOU STILL WANT TO DIE?! LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT HER!"

She was sitting on the couch in the middle of the shared living room, surrounded by hot men in pajamas, crying her eyes out at the movie playing on the enormous television screen.

"She can make you happy—wuwuwuwuwu—"

Her words dissolved into incomprehensible sobs as she buried her face in Oathran’s chest. The fabric of his pajama shirt immediately grew warm and damp as she flooded it with tears, her shoulders shaking, her breath coming in hitching, uneven gasps.

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo—"

"Sob..." Eastiel, who was holding a box of tissues on the other end of the couch, was also smothering himself in them, dabbing at his eyes, trying very hard not to cry and failing completely. He offered the box to Oathran, who was already pulling out a fistful of tissues to wipe the tears streaming down Cecilia’s face.

Meanwhile, Arkai was frowning at the screen from his position on a bean bag nearby. He couldn’t decide between genuine emotional investment and confusion. "Why are we choosing this movie again...?"

"Because it is good, what do you mean, sob?" Eastiel blew his nose into a tissue.

"We should not watch such a sad story on date nights..." Arkai muttered, pulling his knees up slightly, his wolf ears drooping.

"What do you mean by sad? This is a frustrating story. I’m always angry watching this one." Oathran scoffed. "’Me Before You’? What a selfish piece of shit. If you want to die, die for saving her or the world or whatever. Dying to save yourself from the life you do not want to live in? Coward."

"Hey." Eastiel’s voice was muffled by the tissue pressed to his face, but his tone was insistent. "It is about agency and choice, sob. Not everyone is as strong and stupid as us. Not everyone is brave enough to live for others, not themselves."

"Yeah." Arkai took a tissue from the box and wiped his own eyes with gruff motions. "Basically, some people are cowards." He paused, his gaze fixed on the screen, and his voice softened by a fraction. "Damnit. Emilia Clarke kinda looks like my mom. I can’t stand watching her cry."

"Yeah..." Eastiel sighed, his golden eyes glistening. "I can’t stand watching women cry too."

"Let’s watch another movie, alright?" Oathran gently said as he rubbed Cecilia’s back in slow, soothing circles. "You aren’t sleepy yet, right?"

"We can watch another play? Really?" Cecilia blinked up at him, her eyes still red and puffy, her cheeks still wet with tears.

Play...?

Oathran’s brow furrowed by a fraction. Her vocabulary was a little strange today...

"What movie next?" Eastiel grabbed the remote. He sensed that the crying portion of the evening was over and the better crying portion was about to begin. "Oh! I know a good one. It is quite recent!"

"Which one?"

"This one."

"Ooooohhh—"

"Yeah, this one is good. I kinda want to rewatch this one."

"Project... Hail Mary...?" Cecilia blinked at the screen, reading the title while still learning the alphabet of this world. "What kind of story is this...?"

And one and a half hours later—

"NOOOOOOO ROCKY NOOOOO—"

"Sob—sob—sob—sob—"

"Oh—?"

"No way—no way—"

"They are saying goodbye?"

"Fuck..."

"It was a good movie."

"Yeah."

"I will grab a blanket."

"Sure. Thanks."

Cecilia, still leaning against Oathran’s chest, watched the credits roll across the screen. Her eyes were full of dreamy wonder after experiencing something transformative.

The movie, Project Hail Mary was about a lone astronaut on a desperate mission to save humanity, who befriended an alien with the similar mission to save its own people.

It had hit her somewhere deep.

She was marveling at everything. The world, the theories, the snippets of knowledge in it. It all looked real. Like magic.

This world had given her many things to be astonished by so far. But this evening, surrounded by three men in pajamas, crying at moving pictures on a screen, this was something else entirely.

That was when Oathran realized that they had been in this position for hours.

She was leaning against his chest, her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder. Her body was soft and warm and faintly lavender-scented from her two-hour shower. And she had been there for two entire movies, without pulling away or seeming to mind at all.

He slowly stiffened.

Not that way, well, yes, a little bit that way, but he was a grown man and he had excellent self-control, but more like... you know? Like... like you’re holding a moment that could pass before you can actually savor it...?

She was recently divorced, and she had chosen to return to them. The three men she had spent a one-night-stand with a month and a half ago.

Well. Yes, they had known each other somewhat before that night. They had not been complete strangers. But still.

And now, the woman of his dreams was lying on his chest, her eyes dreamy and distant as she watched the credits roll.

"I think you need to watch ’Interstellar’ next." He said, slightly rougher than intended. He cleared his throat. "It is a similar movie to this one, but it is leaps and bounds better."

Cecilia looked up at him. Her eyes, still red-rimmed from crying, met his, and she smiled. "Movie," she repeated, nodding slowly, as though tasting the word. "Yes. Movie. I will watch it with you guys next."

Oathran’s eyes faltered. His heart stuttered in his chest. Her smile, it was too much. But it was also not enough. And he was starstruck.

"Okay," he managed.

As the credits continued to roll, Arkai and Eastiel slowly drifted to sleep. Arkai had curled up on his bean bag, his wolf ears twitching occasionally in his dreams, a blanket pulled up to his chin.

Eastiel had slumped sideways on the couch, his golden hair spilling across a cushion, his lion tail draped over the armrest and twitching faintly.

Cecilia lay on Oathran’s chest, her eyes fixed on his phone as he idly scrolled through something called short-form content, brief, vertical videos that auto-played one after another, each one a tiny window into someone else’s life.

She watched and got fascinated by it. Was this... instant entertainment popular in this world? Little snippets of humor and drama and information, delivered in endless, bite-sized pieces?

"By the way." Oathran carefully said as to not to wake his sleeping brothers. He set his phone aside, the screen going dark. "I have not seen you check your phone since you arrived. Is that okay?"

Cecilia looked at him, trying to hide the confusion that flickered behind her eyes. Was it not normal to ignore the device all day?

"Are your family... not worried, or something?" Oathran asked, his eyes studying her face, noticing something was off and was trying to figure out what.

Oh.

Wait.

Was the phone also a device for communication? Like a Magic Communication Crystal, but more portable? More constant? More... pervasive...?

That... that made sense. It explained why everyone was always looking at them. Why people tapped at them while walking down the street.

"Or..." Oathran’s eyes narrowed by a fraction. Now, he sounded suspicious. "...are you deliberately not checking it?"

Cecilia didn’t know what to answer. More accurately, she didn’t know what the right answer was. She didn’t even know what a phone was.

Now, seeing her like this, Oathran became worried.

"You aren’t just running away from home, are you?"