But before I could think of poses for Deen, there was a knock on the door. Deen jumped on the bed and immediately wrapped herself in the blanket. I smiled at her. “Don’t you want to check who it is?”
“You go!” Deen’s eyes, peeking over the covers, were furious. “If it’s the others, tell them they can’t come in.”
It turned out it was our bags getting delivered. Quite early, since it hadn’t been an hour since we started boarding. This was probably a perk of our expensive room. Just how things usually went in society—prioritise the wealthy over the lower-class peasants. I was super lucky to land a wealthy girlfriend.
“Yes, come on in,” I loudly said for Deen to hear. But the man had already left before I had even opened the door. I just wanted to make Deen panic.
“No!” Deen yelled. “Don’t come in here!”
“Relax, it’s no one.” I laughed while wheeling in our luggage. Luggage, baggage, bags. What was the difference between those terms?
“I hate you!” Deen was still wrapped like a burrito on the bed. Only her angry face was visible.
“No, you don’t. You love me.” I sat on the end of the bed, grinning at her blushing face. “And it was obviously our bags. It couldn’t be Dario and the others because they’re busy finding all the bioscanners on this ship, so we can avoid them. Well, we should be helping them. Instead, we’re…”
“Having a sexy photoshoot?” Deen suggested as she shed her blanket cocoon.
In her naked glory, she crawled over to me, her massive breasts hanging down her chest like wobbly watermelons. They had a slight sag given their weight, which proved that they were real, along with their jiggle as she moved. Okay, comparing them to watermelons might be too much. They weren’t that big.
Did watermelons even hang down from something? Didn’t they grow on vines crawling on the ground?
“Why the serious face?” Deen sat beside me. “What are you thinking about?”
“Do watermelons hang down from the vine? I guess if you build the vines those crisscross support thingies, they’ll climb it and fruit on top. But the fruits would be too—”
“Were you thinking about watermelons because of my breasts?”
I stuck out my tongue at Deen.
She frowned, pretending to be angry. “Maybe I’ll get a breast reduction.”
“No! I’ll stop thinking of watermelons.”
Deen patted my head. “I’m teasing you. I won’t do anything with my body that you don’t want to.”
“Uh… Why are you making it sound like I’m the toxic girlfriend between the two of us? I’m not controlling you or anything. It’s your body.”
“I want to be controlled sometimes,” Deen said with a shrug. Before I could comment, she continued, “My body is yours. And to answer your question about watermelons, there are vines grown on trellises, what you called crisscross support thingies. Yes, watermelons are very heavy and will snap off the vines. People using this method will support them with slings.”
I giggled. “Bras for watermelons? That’s what those slings basically are.”
“Oh, you…” Deen patted my head again before pulling me to lie on her chest. “You can think of them as watermelon bras if you want. But it’s not a normal way of growing watermelons. They need a lot of water compared to other vine produce, and that amount of water will have trouble climbing up the vines, going against gravity to reach the fruit.”
“Why do you know so much about this?” I asked, rubbing my cheek on her chest.
It might sound crazy, but I was now familiar with Deen’s warmth. I know that all humans should have around the same temperature, and skin was skin. However, I’d still be in disgust mode if other people touched me. Deen, on the other hand, was very acceptable to my body. I suppose that after tons of skinship, I sort of imprinted on Deen as my mate.
“I learned about it from a friend in college who’s obsessed with plants,” Deen explained. “She has a small garden in her penthouse.”
That made me pause. Rich people's places. Better not to ask about those. “How come you’ve never introduced me to any of your friends?” I asked. “Erm, I know I haven’t introduced you to mine, either. But that’s because I don’t really have close friends. Unlike most people, I don’t keep in touch with my high school batchmates, or college batchmates, and so on. I… I’m just not the sort of type to message people. I don’t even do anything with my Snippet account.”
And I didn’t have true friends, in the actual meaning of the word. I faked friendship for convenience. After I had used people, even if not for manipulation purposes but just to appear that I wasn’t friendless, I’d forget about them. They were practically statues in my eyes. For example, I couldn’t remember around ninety-five per cent of my high school batchmates. But Deen didn’t need to know this about me; let her think that I was a super introvert, which I actually was anyway.
“They’re not close friends of mine,” Deen said. “I have none. Except for you.” She burrowed her fingers into my hair and massaged my scalp. “You probably won’t relate to their lives. It’s much better if it’s just the two of us.”
“Are you sure that you’re just not hiding me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Like, you’re afraid of coming out to your friends and family?” I was just messing with Deen. I had no intention of getting to know her friends or family or anybody else. And I specifically didn’t want to be introduced as Deen’s girlfriend because that’d bring scrutiny from high society.
“My acquaintances wouldn’t care if I was straight or not.”
“Really?”
Deen inhaled, her chest beneath my cheek heaving, before sighing long. “Not really. I know that some of them will turn it into a huge issue. They don’t care about my sexual preferences themselves, but the drama it’ll bring.”
“Drama? How so?” I straightened myself and looked up at Deen.
We hadn’t talked about anything this serious before. The extent of ‘future planning’ for our relationship, if it could be considered planning at all, was just running away somewhere else and surviving however long our superhuman bodies would permit. That meant no interacting with people and leaving our lives behind.
To me, that was just all talk. I was quite happy and content with my life. Mom? She’d accept my relationship with Deen. It was Deen’s side of the equation that was difficult to solve.
“You know that we’re wealthy, don’t you?” Deen asked.
I furrowed my brows. “Is this some kind of trick question?”
“It’s wealthy family problems. Someone needs to take over the business. That’s my sister and me. But afterwards?”
“Your sister got lots of boyfriends. She’ll be able to make an heir. And she’s the eldest between the two of you, so taking over the family business is her thing. That’s been the case for thousands of years across cultures all over the world. I think. I’m just assuming.”
“My sister doesn’t have any intention of settling down,” Deen said. “It’s evident from her way of life. And so, my parents will pressure me to have a family to keep the wealth within our bloodline. It sounds archaic, but that’s how it is.”
Normally, I’d roll my eyes at Deen’s family issues, but this got my interest. Add that I should probably care more about my girlfriend’s problems. This was so tough, thinking about other people. “Why don’t they keep pressuring your sister? Why switch to you?”
“My parents have given up on my sister. She’s a mountain of will, and nothing will change her mind. Father had threatened to cut her off from the will, but she didn’t care. Father didn’t push through with the threat because it would harm the family image, and… as I’ve mentioned… it wouldn’t work.”
“But would threats work on you?” I asked. “Doesn’t seem you really care about money.”
“I care about my parents’ expectations of me. Don’t you?”
I resisted the grimace that was forming on my face. Too much serious talk. “Mom doesn’t really expect much from me. Live a happy and good life. I guess she wants me to finish law school—it’d be a huge waste of money on her part if she didn’t. Once I graduated from Cresthorne Law, job offers will come. I’ll be set.”
“Does your mom ask you about settling down?”
“She teases me about wanting grandchildren sometimes, but I don’t think that she’s serious.” I needed to push the focus back to Deen. “Anyway, as I understand it, your friends will think it’s a huge thing if you’re not straight because you won’t have heirs. Your parents are forcing you to make a kid and stuff. As your girlfriend, all I can say is… we just live our lives.”
That made Deen smile. “You’re right. Enough of this depressing topic. How about we continue our photoshoot. Since our bags are here, I have some pieces of lingerie that I want to show you.”