Estelle had a terrible night's sleep.
The illicit drugs dominated her nervous system, and she had very unpleasant dreams. When she woke up, the curtains were tightly drawn, making the bedroom dark. Estelle propped herself up and tried to turn on the light, only then realizing that her hands were shaking.
It wasn't just her hands; her entire body felt weak, and her lower abdomen was achingly soft.
After a night had passed, much of the drug in her bloodstream had been diluted, but she was still under its influence, her body running hot with intermittent, low-amplitude spasms.
She was thirsty. She had lost too much fluid.
Estelle struggled to get up and wanted to go pour herself a glass of water when she heard the door open, and Crescent came in with a cup.
"It's now 12: 39 PM," he said.
It was warm water. Estelle's body was overheated, and she would have preferred something cold, but she didn't say anything and drank it anyway.
Crescent watched her drink. Estelle asked, "How many times we have last night...?"
"Four times," Crescent replied. "Twice in the car, and twice at home."
Estelle held the cup without speaking. Crescent added, "You were really uncomfortable last night. How are you now?"
"A lot better," Estelle said. "But the effects of the drugs haven't worn off yet. I might need to go to the hospital to get some suppressants."
Crescent said, "I'll come with you."
Estelle didn't object. Suddenly remembering something, she asked, "And how about you? How many times for you?"
"Also four times," Crescent said. "According to the default settings, I achieve satisfaction simultaneously with you. As soon as your muscles start to contract, I'm forced to reach the same state."
"..."
Four times. Calculating the dosage, it was just enough for one bottle of electrolyte water.
Estelle felt a silent pain in her heart. Crescent came over and touched her cheek with his fingers. "You look very hot. Are you really feeling better?"
At the moment his fingertips touched her, the hormones in her bloodstream stirred, and she suddenly wanted to hug him again.
Estelle turned her head away and touched her face. Indeed, it was very hot, and even her ears and neck were warm.
"There's still some effect, but it's okay." She looked down, not meeting his gaze. "I'm much better than last night."
Crescent cleared his throat, as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately didn't speak. Looking at her for a moment, he then said, "The apple pie you wanted, I've already made it."
Estelle was taken aback. "Apple pie?"
"Yes," Crescent nodded, helping her remember. "In the car last night, you said you wanted to eat apple pie."
While Crescent went back to the kitchen to prepare food for her, Estelle changed into a clean pair of pants.
She put on an absorbent pad and went to the dining room. Crescent had already placed the apple pie on the table, along with steak, sausages, and vegetable salad. Looking at the food, Estelle shook her head. "I can't eat this much."
"You can eat as much as you like," Crescent said. "You need to replenish your nutrients. Just eat whatever you feel like."
Estelle slowly sat down. Crescent cut the apple pie into small pieces. "Try it."
The freshly baked apple pie exuded a mouth-watering aroma of butter and apples. Estelle chewed gently. Crescent looked at her and asked, "Is it good?"
"It's delicious," she said.
She didn't know how to forget that autumn, when the end of fall in Electronic City was a glittering golden sight. She stood halfway up the mountain, overlooking the apple orchard below, and Cyrus stood there smiling, carrying a backpack.
"Why aren't you in the lab? What brings you here?"
"The lab is boring. My robot can cook now. I brought it to show you."
"You call this tin can a robot?"
He smiled.
"A cooking robot—being able to cook is enough."
The valley was filled with flowing wind. He suddenly turned the robot around so that it faced her. "Come, let him see you first."
Estelle was surprised and also laughed. "You haven't even tested it?"
"Isn't this the test right now?"
When the robot powered on, Estelle saw its light brown eyes.
To be precise, those weren't eyes, but rather a pair of brown ring-shaped gems. She leaned closer to take a look and asked, "What are these?"
"Untreated tanzanite," Cyrus said. "They're quite similar to the color of irises, aren't they?"
She nodded. "They are very beautiful."
The eyes were beautiful, but the food it made wasn't.
The cooking robot bustled about for a long time before finally dropping out several burnt apple pies from the serving port. Estelle took a bite and, laughing, said, "It's awful," and then stuffed the apple pie into Cyrus' mouth.
Watching him chew awkwardly, she turned around, and the cooking robot's light brown eyes continued to quietly watch her.
