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Five flicked off the TV. “Alright, I'm bored!” he exclaimed. He turned around so he was positioned backwards on the couch and put his arms up on the back of it. Now he was facing Norea, who was sitting a bit away on some storage boxes. “Hey, come sit with me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't like you.”
“Aaaugh, don't say thaaaat.” He said it teasingly at first but then got a little more direct. “Isn't it uncomfortable sitting up there all the time? On all those hard boxes. At least the couch has cushions.”
“But it also has you, and I don't like you.”
She was looking at him the way a cat might if it was observing him, with sharp, focused eyes. Those eyes were so intriguing! He had to know more. “Can I come sit with you?”
“No.”
“Does this have to do with the not-liking-me thing?”
“Yes.”
“Hrrmmm. So what do I have to do to get you to like me?”
“Die, probably,” said Norea.
She was dour, wasn't she? But there was something familiar there, and it made him grin. Of course death was on her mind. They'd both spent their entire lives running from the same thing, hadn't they? “We all die eventually. And that means you'll like me eventually, I suppose,” he said. “So you may as well get it over with and like me now. Right?”
Norea didn't reply right away, but something in her expression seemed to shift. She squinted a bit, as though she'd decided that she was done merely observing Five and was now interested in him. At least, that's what Five hoped she was thinking. “If you really want to speed things up, you can always die faster,” she said finally.
Five laughed because he was genuinely amused by their banter. “Sorry! I don't plan on that just yet.” He turned around so he was facing forward and had his back to her again. “You can still come sit on the couch with me whenever you want, though.”
“Thanks, I'll pass.”
Five decided that since she hadn't tried to stab him the entire time they were talking, it was a pretty good conversation.