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At night Ruan Mei sang lullabies to her creations.
Since the day she announced the extension of her stay on the space station, the catcakes yearned for her closeness, especially during the night. Ruan Mei remained absent; the catcakes complained with loud meowing. Their noise soon filled the entire space station, and, more importantly, disrupted Herta's work.
While their calls never reached Ruan Mei, Herta's complaints did, and the request that followed them. “I'm missing out on valuable work time – you have to find a way to make them stop!” Herta was determined in her pursuit to have Ruan Mei resolve the issue. During meetings, experiments – as they ate pastries or talked in bed, Herta would find a way to reference the deafening sound and destruction caused by the eighty-first’s creations.
Eventually Ruan Mei realized that her peace of mind was just as dependent on the catcakes' well-being as theirs was on her presence. As such she began the experiment of finding the ideal sequence of sounds to get the catcakes to rest.
From then on, Ruan Mei sang lullabies to her creations and whenever Herta strolled down the corridor after a day's work, she listened to the song her partner would hum behind the lab door.
Similarly to previous nights, Herta found herself waiting in front of the door, passing the time by quietly listening. Slightly irritated, she glanced at the clock. “At midnight we shall finish work and return to our room together. ” - the timeframe they agreed upon. Midnight turned into 12.30 am more often than not; by now Herta was used to it. Unfortunately, the clock confirmed her suspicion: it was 12:45 am. “Only Ruan Mei would delay being late”, murmured Herta. Her foot bounced up and down—the only outlet for her increasing impatience. “Whatever, as long as she’s happy”, she kept telling herself. If only this satisfaction wasn’t reliant on wasting her own time and worsening her sleep deprivation.
Although the sound of Ruan Mei's singing was enchanting, and Herta would always find beauty in its melancholy, today it merely reminded her of what she longed for: sleep, and the bed in which they rested together.
Her exhausted brain made rash decisions; instead of waiting any longer, Herta knocked on the lab door.
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No response. The lullaby fell silent, but the door stayed closed. Herta raised her arm to knock again, determined to insist on their agreement.
Before her hand could reach the door, the barrier between them disappeared. Ruan Mei studied Herta, irritated by her frozen motion. “Ugh, finally. This is still my space station, you know. The least you could do is answer the door when I knock”, Herta lamented as Ruan Mei stepped through the doorway. She remained calm, even when faced with her quick-tempered partner. “How was I supposed to know it was you who wished to enter?”, Ruan Mei argued casually. “You're missing the point”, Herta grumbled, then furrowed her brows. “Also, it's almost one in the morning; who else is supposed to visit?”, she added crankily. Dwindling patience intertwined with accusatory words; the annoyed tone of her voice led Ruan Mei to the conclusion that exhaustion was causing Herta’s tantrum, and only adherence was able to counteract it.
An inconspicuous yet gentle smile graced Ruan Mei's lips as she closed the laboratory behind her. “I was putting the catcakes to bed,” she explained as she turned to face Herta, “The wisteria one wasn't responding to the frequency, so I had to personalize their melody.”
Herta chuckled softly and shot her a provocative glance. “So, you'd rather sing than be on-time – a new passion of yours?”, she jested. Though Ruan Mei considered dismissing the comment, on their way back she chose to clarify: “I am doing this at your request. The goal is to record a melody for each catcake; that way I won't have to stay with them, nor will they bother you. Till then, this will be how I spend my evening.”
“Maybe they aren't as effective as you think. After all, you have been repeating them well into the night.” A smug smirk accompanied Herta's teasing. Ruan Mei raised an eyebrow but remained composed. “I believe I sing them rather well”, she insisted.
“Of course you do”, Herta affirmed before they entered the bedroom. “In that case I don't understand the issue”, Ruan Mei admitted. Herta turned on the lights, then joked affectionately: “You never hum lullabies to me.”
Surprise was written all over Ruan Mei's face; the hidden wish in their banter was unexpected. As they glanced at each other, Ruan Mei noted how the purple eyes’ pupils seemingly widened, despite the room being well-lit. Her previously confused expression turned into a smile, timid in its care, and accompanied her words. “If you have trouble falling asleep, I can sing one for you, too”, Ruan Mei offered. “I was just teasing you, actually. A great genius like me sleeps perfectly fine. Even if I had trouble resting, a lullaby would be the last thing I’d consider”, Herta rambled in an attempt to mask her embarrassment. For a moment she paused, took a few steps away from Ruan Mei and calmed her heart, before she continued: “Well, you do have a beautiful voice, so I guess, if I were to take someone up on that kind of offer, it would be you.”
Ruan Mei gave her a questioning glance as Herta disappeared in the bathroom. Not for long; she poked her head out one last time, if only to add another trivial excuse to keep up the crumbling facade. “I’m not admitting to anything, by the way. This is merely a hypothetical scenario that I spend little time contemplating.” Ruan Mei shook her head, but Herta had already rushed to the adjoined room.
Once she left the bathroom, Ruan Mei already waited in bed. They exchanged a tired glance before Herta joined her. Wordlessly, they snuggled under the covers and Herta placed her head below Ruan Mei's collarbone. The vulnerability of their position was easier to ignore if they stayed silent. Their proximity allowed for Herta to feel the chest rising and falling; with each breath Ruan Mei took, the tension the day had brought eased. Herta listened to the rhythmic heartbeat, the quiet throb, then slowly closed her eyes to embrace the peaceful atmosphere. A deep sigh left her mouth. "Perhaps I would have less trouble falling asleep if you finished work on time," Herta whispered and placed a tender kiss on her partner's jaw.
At last, sleep caught up to her.
Perhaps Ruan Mei's sleep would be smoother if she reflected on Herta’s words in the morning. Nevertheless, the last thing on her mind before she fell asleep was the determination to fulfill her partner’s wish.
The following day, as Herta walked through the hallway, there was nothing but silence. Ruan Mei wasn’t on time, but neither did her voice echo through the space station. Surprised by the unusual circumstance, Herta ran to the door to knock three times.
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Still no sound, no clue as to what was going on behind the closed doors and so outrage turned into confusion. “Is she even in there...?!” Herta quickly grabbed her phone - one unread message.
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Ruan Mei: No need to pick me up today.
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The woman waiting shook her head, clicked her tongue in disapproval, but stayed calm. “Guess that’s another night I’ll spend by myself”, she remarked in resignation. “The day this woman no longer causes me a headache the universe’s end is near.” She walked home by herself, all alone, with no one by her side to talk to.
As soon as Herta entered the room her eyes caught sight of Ruan Mei, sitting on their bed, peacefully reading a book. She smiled softly once she noticed Herta’s arrival, but her gaze remained lowered. Ruan Mei's unexpected presence perplexed Herta; nevertheless, her lips carried a joyful smile as she took off her clothes. “Not singing your catcakes to sleep today?”, Herta teased as she put on her pajamas; an old lab coat that once belonged to Ruan Mei. “They’re already asleep. I started their routine earlier than usual”, she explained and put the book on the nightstand to her right. As Herta joined her in bed, the tender smile on Ruan Mei's lips turned into one that carefully attempted to conceal the affection with which she spoke: “Come, rest your head on my lap.” Although their bodies were familiar with each other, they rarely verbalized their desire for closeness.
Whatever feeling it was that connected them would take the lead, allowing for their actions to be carried out in wordless manner.
Herta froze in her position next to Ruan Mei, closely examined the look on her face to try and understand the unusually voiced command. “You wished for a similar treatment to the catcakes. I've prepared a lullaby that should be to your liking. The wisteria catcake is quite fond of it, too,” she clarified, “but you must lay down your head. It is part of the procedure.” Herta considered whether Ruan Mei was mocking her. Yet the racing heart rejected the notion; it insisted that the one she cherished was straightforward with her requests. Nervousness lingered as Herta hastily proclaimed: “I was just joking yesterday.” A glimpse of disappointment flashed through the blue eyes, overshadowed the sincere affection hidden beneath as it passed.
Mere seconds of silence went by before Herta laid down her head on Ruan Mei's lap. In the comfort of their familiarity, she felt exhaustion take over her body. “Close your eyes”, Ruan Mei whispered. “Stop pushing your luck!” Herta's objection was met with a tender chuckle, one to convince her to simply do as she’s told.
Ruan Mei gently stroked the head resting before her, brushed through the soft hair with her icy cold fingers. Tenderly she placed a kiss, then hummed the lullaby. The melody enveloped her chest with warmth akin to hot chocolate on a winter's day. As her heart slowed its pace, her muscles relaxed; under the blanket Ruan Mei covered her with, Herta felt her consciousness slip away. Soon the voice faded into the distance and sleep encompassed her mind. “I hope I can listen to her sing for many nights to come.”