for The_Exile for the Press Start Exchange on AO3

"Another book?"

Adam chuckled, the corner of his lips curled upwards. "When you say it like that, you make me wonder if I'm torturing you more so than educating you."

Sunlight filtered through the overgrowth swallowing up the collapsed buildings. Wildlife chirped and chattered in the distance while the trees swayed with the wind. Eve turned a blind eye to the natural wonders to stare upon Adam and nothing else.

The ruins were once a revered place—a shopping mall, or so Adam explained—where humans purchased anything they longed to have. Endless items stuffed shelves, awaiting a new home outside of their pristine world. Some humans fought one another to claim the dwindling supplies. Eve scoffed; why fight over non-sentient objects? What could something that never reciprocated love or hatred ever provide to a human heart?

Humans are weird, he kept to himself.

And there they were, perusing for relics long forgotten. Dust and mold enveloped what lied beneath the rubble, yet Adam sifted through the area like a hawk scouting for potential prey. Eve crouched upon the dilapidated roof, a loose fist holding up his bored face. Quite far from his idea of fun, but if Adam wished for his company during this so-called adventure, then who was he to say no?

How could he ever say no to his brother?

Though as Adam procured a book, Eve raised an eyebrow. "We have so many books back at our… at our…."

Adam cocked his head. "Our home?"

Eve snapped his finger and pointed at Adam. "Yeah, that's the word. Can't we look through what we already have? I don't mind if we reread one, you know."

"This one, however, will be a new addition to our collection. I've been searching for it for some time."

Eve blinked. "You have?"

"Mmm. I read through multiple texts citing that modern literature at the time all drew inspiration from a singular source. Quite fascinating, is it not? For all the stories we've read, their roots lie in one storyteller centuries earlier. I cannot help but wonder if humans lacked the fundamental creativity to spin their own stories for one another or if this writer touched on the foundations of the human psyche better than anyone else, thus paving way for relatable tales." Adam flipped through the book, already lost in its texts. "Yes, this is a curious matter, indeed."

"Maybe humans were just stupid and stole ideas from people who did it better."

"Possibly," Adam replied, eyes still skimming each page. "We may never know the truth, but we can come to our own conclusions." He peered past his glasses to settle upon Eve. "Shall we start our lesson?"

Eve perked up. "Then can we play? After we're finished?"

A soft smile graced Adam's features. Eve came to memorize those subtle curves in his mouth since the beginning. You were smiling then, even though you were in pain, he recalled. It was forever a reminder of that fateful day and how he quietly swore to never let the world do so much as mar Adam again.

That smile forever provided enough of an answer, yet Adam's gentle words pulsed pleasant chills through Eve. "But of course."

Jumping to his feet, Eve puffed up his bare chest and flashed a grin. "Alright! I'm going to learn so much about this inspiring human that I'll be able to write my own book about all of it!"

He jumped down to join Adam on the ground. Together, they exited the ruins in favor of the nearby forest. Lush leaves circled above as sunlight peeked through. The breeze smoothed over Eve's skin and played with his hair. All the while, he followed Adam, eager to spend time with him.

It never mattered what the task at hand was; so long as Adam was beside him, Eve accepted anything.

Adam settled by a tree surrounded by a stretch of green grass. Eve plopped next to him and scooted close to better examine the book. Mildew penetrated the paper, yet the ink remained legible on the aged pages. Eve blinked at the tattered cover.

"What is it?" he asked.

"A collection of plays by a writer named Shakespeare."

"Plays? Oh, I like this already!"

Adam chuckled. "This may be quite different from the play you're accustomed to. Humans would pretend they were other people and perform on stages for others to enjoy. I believe I picked up from the network that some machines by the amusement park attempted to replicate a play, one of which is in here."

Eve scrunched up his nose. "I'm not sure I'm going to like this type of play after all."

"You won't know until you've tried."

"But… if it's supposed to be done on a stage… then how are the two of us to experience a play in this book?"

"Curious, isn't it?" Adam smiled and flipped through the pages. "I wondered the same thing. Humans taught these plays to children by reading them together instead of experiencing it in its intended form. Did they fully understand the material by reading it instead of viewing a performance or perhaps gleaned something new with a different perspective? I would love to try and see what comes of it."

Eve sighed. "That looks like a lot of reading."

"Not all of it; not today, anyways. I was hoping to find— Aha! Here we are."

Eve peeked into Adam's lap to find eloquent text marking the focus of their lecture. "Romeo and… Juliet?" he read carefully.

Adam hummed with approval. "A story of love and death, one which was retold for centuries." He tilted his head and smiled at Eve. "Shall we begin?"

It was different from the previous stories Adam read. Each line presented a puzzle more so than a description, yet Adam persisted, not tripping over any of the antiquated speech. With every scene read, they paused and discussed what transpired; Adam explained the nuances of a time far before their existence. Maybe Eve didn't comprehend the subtleties within the prose or why the characters felt it was necessary to ramble for pages, but Adam wove the tale with a precise, delicate tongue; it was enough to captivate Eve's undivided attention.

He rolled his eyes at the male protagonist, swooning over a particular woman one instance and then someone completely different the next. Why are humans so fickle? he wondered. Did they grow bored easily? Though as Adam painted a vivid picture of the balcony scene, Eve submerged himself and refused to surface until the story concluded.

Poetic words captured a sensation he could never describe as beautifully. It clutched his chest and hitched his breath. This was what humans considered to be love—pure, innocent, blinding love. Eve feared the experience was reserved to humans alone, though with each line read, he wondered if machines were capable of a love as brilliant and honest as the old texts depicted.

And Adam's voice…. Eve never wished for anything but that divine voice. It soothed him better than the cool wind amidst the desert's heat. He basked in that quiet, yet steady quality held in his brother's tongue. Every word embraced him like a blanket he longed to bury himself in.

Eve slumped into Adam throughout the story, eyes glued to the pages in an attempt to read along. By the third act, Eve nestled his head into Adam's lap. A gentle hand smoothed over Eve's hair and skimmed his neck and jaw. Eve closed his eyes, lost more in Adam's actions than his words. It helped distract him from the bloodshed and heartache which unfolded.

Humans were more concerned about a name than anything else? Eve mused. Why should any of that matter; they're still human. If they love one another, shouldn't that be enough? Why complicate it? Let them be happy; it's all they ever wanted.

But it wasn't enough. The story ended in a tragedy Eve couldn't comprehend to be possible. Tears welled in his eyes as Juliet woke to find her lover dead beside her. He clung to Adam in hopes for comfort. Fingers tangled in his hair and massaged his scalp.

"A glooming peace this morning with it brings," Adam said. "The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head. Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; some shall be pardon'd, and some punished. For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo." Adam closed the book. "What a fascinating tale. Humans were so intrigued by love and death that they almost seem to go hand in hand. I wonder if death is as sweet and freeing as love. Perhaps in their death, they could finally be free from those who chained them down."

"I didn't like it."

"Hmm?"

Eve curled up further into Adam. "No one was happy that they were happy. All they wanted was to love one another. They didn't need to die for that."

"Perhaps not, but it does make you wonder about why the two themes go hand in hand. Maybe humans weren't able to love as freely as some of the texts said they could. To die with a loved one… maybe they viewed it as romantic."

He longed to argue with Adam, but the words died in his throat. Adam was always right and for once, Eve wished he wasn't. Silent tears trickled across his face.

"What's wrong?" Adam asked.

"I… I didn't want them to die."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know. They were… full of life and happiness together."

"Think of it as them sharing a peaceful dream together now with no one to interrupt."

"Is… is that what happens when humans die?"

Adam paused. "I don't know."

Pushing himself to seated, Eve sniffled and dried his eyes with a loose fist. "I don't want you to die."

Those lovely eyes locked onto Eve. Flowing white hair framed his brother's face. The setting sun cast a fiery hue throughout the forest and set Adam's features ablaze. He longed to stare upon that face until the end of time. The thought of not having him… it twisted something wicked within Eve.

"I'm right here." Adam brought a delicate hand up to flick away the remaining tears. "I will never leave you."

Eve clung to the hand cupping his cheek. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"I'm grateful for that." Adam smiled. "I'm sorry this lecture wasn't to your liking."

"It… it was pretty. I liked listening to you read. I always do."

"I didn't mean to make you cry, though."

"Yeah, I wasn't prepared for that."

"But you felt something. A mere story, one that doesn't exist the way we do, rattled you enough to elicit these sentiments."

"Is… that what it means to be human?"

"Perhaps. I'm not sure."

Eve cast his eyes away for but a moment. "I liked parts of it."

"Did you, now?"

He nodded and struggled to speak. What was preventing him from doing so? There was nothing to fear before Adam and yet a phantom stilled his tongue.

"I… I really liked it," Eve managed to murmur, "when they kissed."

"Did you?"

Eve nodded, averting his gaze and chewing his lower lip.

"What did you like about it?" Adam inquired.

"Everything, I guess. It seems warm and safe."

"It does, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." Eve paused. "Would you... do you ever wonder what it's like?"

"What's that?"

"To kiss someone you love?"

Eve dared to eye Adam once more. Nothing but a tender smile met him.

"I wonder many things," he said. "I would love to experience everything humans do. How else are we to understand them?"

I shouldn 't have expected anything less.

That sweet smile lured in Eve.

"I want to experience all of it," he murmured, gingerly raising a hand, "with you."

Fingertips brushed over Adam's soft lips. He never ceased to smile.

"I wouldn't want it any other way," Adam whispered back.

Eve paused, inches from Adam. He licked his lips, closed his eyes, and gently kissed him.

For all the poetics bolstering the act of a simple kiss, Eve was prepared for something which transcended reality. Such delusions left him puzzled by the lack of literal sparks flying around them or organs bursting from his chest. As he lingered, however, sentiments swirled within, all of which he possessed no proper name for. It pulsed through his blood, quickened his breaths, and scorched in the depths of his stomach. It was a warmth he never knew existed, better than any embrace he and his brother exchanged. He longed to envelop that warmth around him and Adam like a blanket. Surely his brother basked in that decadent sensation, too.

Adam trailed his hand away from Eve's cheek to coil in his short hair and hold him close. His lips moved against Eve's—slow, yet tender nibbles enticing him to reciprocate the action. They embraced one another, exploring the possibilities with their lips alone. Adam's glasses shifted as they eased in deeper with each kiss. Soft vibrations rolled through him and almost tickled Eve. He licked Adam's lower lip, surprised when he parted his mouth to press his own tongue against Eve's.

Was this how humans went about it? Did it even matter if nothing but pure bliss flooded them?

They broke the kiss eventually. Why exactly was unknown to Eve. Perhaps humans understood better than they ever would that nothing lasted forever, even an addictive, passionate kiss. He didn't dare ruin the comfortable silence with a silly question; he opened his eyes and smiled at Adam, overjoyed his brother mirrored the expression.

"I think I understand now," Adam spoke first, his voice a hair above a whisper.

Eve snuggled in closer. "What's that?"

"Why humans fell in love."

They interlocked fingers as Eve curled up beside Adam. Crimson light gave way to a sapphire sky. Stars glimmered to life past the trees. Nothing but the wind and the distant flow of a stream swept around them. Adam rested his cheek on Eve's head and squeezed his hand. In time, they would need to return to their home—just as humans once had—though nothing broke the glowing smile instilled on Eve's face.