Ever just wonder to yourself the importance of exercise? That—maybe—participating in gym class, or picking up a sport, was beneficial to the overall health and well-being as a human? They'd said it all the time during Province daytime news: Health 101.

Me? I'd never tried to participate. Sure, I ran around as a kid, played tag. But exercise was never my thing. And if it was in school, I never did more than was necessary.

That's why when the second day started, and Roger put me through basic training, my body screamed help, bloody-murder, and all things unholy. I knew Alex said anything I'd felt in this reality wasn't real, but that didn't change the fact that it'd hurt like a bitch. And Roger wouldn't go easy on me, either.

The second day was one thing, but the third was another. We'd run the city streets; jumped from one light pole to the next. He even created boulders that suddenly appeared in the road, right in front of me as I was running; he expected me to dodge them.

Me... dodge them?

Let's just say I couldn't do it successfully until day four.

Still, it was all needed. Apart from the boulders and random curves in the road, he'd made open fields, shooting ranges, and tracks. After extensive exercise, he'd make food, and it was always my favorite. I supposed the meals made up for his vigorous teaching techniques, but I'd be lying if I said I hated every day of it. Because I didn't. Day four was the start of my fun.

The training had left imprints in my mind. During our morning run, I caught up to him; my endurance had increased. When we went to the shooting range, I didn't miss; it wasn't a headshot, but a bullet through the shoulder and a person would go down, wouldn't they?

That's when Roger gave me my props. He tossed me a towel and told me, "You're better than I expected."

I couldn't help but take it as a compliment because I couldn't agree with him more.

That still didn't change the fact that we'd wasted a day. The time lost didn't register until our virtual sun dipped low in the sky, setting itself into another night that would stretch out into our next morning. By then, Douglas would go into the room and request my release, because—like Matthews had said—he'd said five hours was enough.

I was on hour four.

"You all right?" Roger stood above me and blocked my thoughts as well as the sun. The red skies behind his head made him glow. I couldn't help but smile when he did.

"I am," I answered honestly. I'd been sitting on the floor for over ten minutes, legs sprawled out in front of me. My muscles ached. I was covered in sweat, so naturally, I pulled at my tank top and laughed when it slapped back against my skin with a quiet plop. "I'm just waiting for this tired feeling to pass."

Roger shook his head as he snickered. "Tired? You think this is tiring?"

"Well..." I turned my feet left, then right, and hissed at the discomfort. "It isn't nice."

"Training isn't supposed to be nice," he said, and gave me his hand. When I took it, he pulled me up to stand beside him, both of us leaning against the metal exterior of our Dome. "Besides, whatever you're feeling now isn't real. Your mind is just going to put it to memory."

"Okay," I huffed and looked back at the reddening sky, "that doesn't mean I can't ask for it to stop. At least for today."

"Just today?" Roger tilted his head, to better look at me.

I gave him a side glance. "Just today. Just one nice day."

Running his hands up and through his hair, Roger took a moment to look at the sun. When he dropped his hands down, he let one hand tug at the collar of his shirt before dropping lower to hold my hand. I didn't talk as he gently pulled me through the Dome's entrance. We walked down two halls and made a right, stopping at a wall with no windows or doors. I was ready to complain, because I wasn't sure how standing in one spot would make me feel better, but he stopped my words with a wave of his hand.

Left in awe, I watched the metal dissolve into pixels; pixels that turned into one large door. With a slight push, he opened it.

"You can relax in here. Cool waters should help you."

He led me into a room that housed a pool. Dim lights hung down from the ceiling, masking the room with an eerily beautiful shade of blue. A part of me thought of how amazing it was—the water, the lights, the cool air that twisted around me. Yet, the other part of me stopped breathing the second I'd smelled chlorine and I made a sour face.

Noticing me, Roger laughed. "You know, you're always going to be the same, Clara."

"Me?" Face still scrunched up in disgust, I lifted one brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Roger knelt down by the pool and dipped a hand into the water. I watched the light reflect on his skin, dance in his eyes. Seeing him like that, so pleased with himself, brought butterflies in my belly.

To fight them, I turned left, right towards the lockers that'd appeared along the wall. I hoped they had bathing suits—or some kind of clothes—tucked away inside.

"Hard to please." Roger slid his fingers left and right through the water.

"I'm hard to please," I scoffed as I opened the long, slim door. There were various swimsuits inside, and of course, I grabbed the blue one, because I wasn't going to wear white.

"Oh, you aren't?" Roger snorted as I pressed the suit against my body. "What's next? You don't like the swimsuit collection? Not fashionista enough for you?"

My jaw dropped as I turned to look at him and his smug face. Normally, I'd find it cute; this time it was irritating. When we'd first met, he'd said it himself, he wouldn't judge me. Yet, as he stood from the water and pulled at his damp shirt, that's all he did. Judge.

I gripped the suit tight in my hands. "You know, you're one to talk."

With his head down, Roger looked up at me with just his eyes. "What?"

"You." I pointed a finger. "You're the one who hasn't changed, and so hard to please. You're just the same Roger that was installed in my head months ago."

Oh, that nerve again. I saw it in his face, as his lip twitched up into a small, pained laugh, and he narrowed his gaze. Only, this time, I wasn't going to apologize. If he'd judge me, I'd judge right back. He wouldn't be the only one to break a promise, would he?

"What have I done that makes you say that?" He lifted his brow. "How am I hard to please?"

"Oh, let me count the ways!" I threw my hands over my head as I spoke. "You're always so secretive, hesitant, and never up-front. You lie to save my feelings, yet you hurt others without a care in the world."

Roger slowly approached me, but I didn't care. I continued.

"You blatantly went into Xerses' room and just crushed what he and I had, told him how you cared about me. But you won't openly tell me that, will you? You'll just beat around the bush until this—" I spun my hands around in an exaggerative circle. "—is done. After that, I'm sure you'll just leave us all to pick up the mess and try to live your promised life and—"

I didn't think he'd rush up against me, but he did. He pinned me against the lockers, hands on either side of my head, eyes staring down into mine. His lip pulled back in a snarl. "Really, Clara?" he hissed. "I gave you what you asked for, and you talk bad about me because you—what—hate the smell of chlorine?"

Okay, I went way left... but still ... "I-It reeks," I muttered, trying to look away. "It was banned for a reason... damages the human body."

Roger shook his head, meeting my eyes wherever I looked. "What does shit-talking have to do with anything?"

My heart stopped. What did it have to do with anything? Nothing—it was just in my nature to explode... I knew no other way. "It's the truth..." I whispered.

"The truth? You want to hear some truths?" I tried to turn my head, but he grabbed my chin and held my face straight. "Do you think that's the only thing that damages the human body? Sunlight damages the body. Strong winds."

His fingers dug into my chin so hard I whimpered. Though he loosened his grip, he didn't let go.

"I'm... I'm not talking about the sunlight or winds. I'm not talking about—"

"What is it, then?" Roger trapped my feet with his. "I didn't think you were so pampered in your future that you can't see the obvious. The pain. There's more than machines that do everything for you."

I looked up at his eyes as they shimmered with the light from the pool. "I never asked for a machine to do everything for me..."

"Liar," he scoffed and closed his eyes. "It's all you know, and I... I can't be mad at you for that. But..."

He stopped and opened his eyes again. The hand pressed against the locker dropped down to my shoulder; the hand on my chin slid up to my cheek. When I sucked in a breath, it was mixed with the air he let out in his sigh.

"Roger, what I was trying to say... was..."

"Was that I was wrong to befriend Xerses? To tell him how I feel? Maybe I was. Do I regret it? No." His stare bore into me. "Know what else damages to the human body? Sadness. Heartache. Love."

I swallowed a ball that had found its way into my throat. "Love," I repeated the word and wasn't sure why.

His hand went up into my hair and behind my head. "Yeah. Love. Makes a human do irrational things. We make poor choices."

I wasn't sure when my hands grabbed the front of his shirt, but I held onto him to keep standing. It was like each word he'd said, each inch he moved closer, I needed something to hold. "We?" I whispered.

"Hm?" He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

"Y-You said we. We run on emotion. We make poor choices."

When he opened his eyes, I swore I saw them glow in that abnormal way that reminded me he wasn't human. How easy it was to forget these past few days that the world we stood in was fake, all in my head; all through a machine that synched my psyche to his to train me for a war I didn't want to happen.

And yet... this... him so close, speaking like this. It wasn't within the plan.

"We do," he muttered after a while. "Like when you ran back into Provincial Hall to get me and Matthews."

Emotion.

"Or, like you?" Now, I held my breath.

"Me?" His eyes searched mine.

"You did this, right?" Clara, shut up. "I mean, I know you and Matthews did this on purpose. Emotions; running on emotions to keep me here longer than needed. Is that the real reason I'm so tired?"

He didn't draw away or avert his gaze. His eyes stayed glued to mine, hand cupping the back of my neck. "You're always going to be this way?" he whispered. "Stubborn, unable to listen."

Oh Province, I couldn't move my head any further away. The locker door just dug into my skull. And my heart wouldn't stop its frantic beating. "What?"

He came closer. "I kept in my secrets to keep you happy. Do you think that was easy? Lying to myself to make sure you were all right because it was my job to do so." His fingers rubbed my neck. "I may have been compliant, Clara, but I could only do it for so long. That's... that's what I have over you."

I waited for him to continue, but I was afraid my heartbeat so loud, I wouldn't hear him.

"Emotions—I react to them, need them, feel them. I lived in a time when we followed our hearts, our dreams. Putting my mind in a machine didn't erase that; especially now. But you..." His forehead pressed down against mine. "You seem to fight everything in front of you. People. Friends. You don't admit your feelings. Maybe that's the time you live in. Technology decides everything for you, and you're practically trained to listen, not to decide for yourself."

I wasn't sure if he was just being a jerk, but I couldn't deny what he said. Yet, I didn't agree wholeheartedly. It wasn't technology that made me stubborn, or mean, or reluctant, but rather, my own personality. Everyone I had close to me, I lost. No family. Barely any friends. I couldn't open up, not all the way. But with Roger, those nights alone in my room, I bloomed. He saw every inch of me.

And now...

"So, what if my computer does everything for me? It's all I know. I can't help that."

Roger's chest came closer. His thumb slowly rubbed my cheek. I took in a shaky breath as his face leaned into mine, his lips just a fraction of space away. "All right," he breathed the word against my lip, "so, let me teach you something new."

I trembled before I spoke. "What's that?"

"To listen." His thumb slid over my bottom lip. "Don't lie to yourself."

Listen.

Roger's words faded into the sound of a breath as he pressed his lips against mine and kissed me deeply. He didn't need to talk after that for me to hear him.

I felt him.

Every bit of him.

His heat combined with mine, and I willingly kept us close. My hands went up and around his neck; my chest pressed against his. We sighed against each other's lips as both he and I deepened the kiss further, speaking the truths we'd never said.

He—the man who couldn't exist—was the only person to bring me out in the open, to free me. And I—the most stubborn girl alive—was the only one who listened to his cries and released his soul. Together, we'd saved each other, and didn't know...

Not until now...

"Clara..." Roger pulled me so close to his body that my world spun, and I felt dizzy. It wasn't until we parted briefly that I realized our world did spin because he'd lost control of his thoughts, emotions; he let our digital room change rapidly without meaning to.

Or, did he?

In mere seconds, we kissed through sunshine and rain, near running brooks and along a beach. When he regained control, we stood within a forest, my back against a tree; the song of birds blended with the sound of our hard-beating hearts.

"Can you hear me?" he breathlessly whispered against my lips.

It was such a weird question, but I knew why he'd asked. He said he wanted to teach me something new, to listen; and I heard every word.

"I can," I sighed, eyes stuck on his lips. My hand slowly slid down his chest. "I hear you."

He huskily chuckled and lifted my chin so I'd look into his half-lidded eyes instead. "I'm sorry I never told you..." he said softly. "I couldn't... I..."

Lifting my hand off his chest, I pressed a finger against his lips. "Don't..."

Don't apologize for being afraid to feel, afraid to want; don't take this away...

Roger came close again, and kissed me softer this time, his lips barely touching mine but making the sound. The motion alone made my heart skip a beat. "We're going to wake up soon... this may be our only chance..." he whispered.

"Don't say that." I shook my head and closed my eyes. "Don't... just..." I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn't find the physical words. Instead, I took his hand and pressed my body to his; I took a kiss before he could.

The forest changed around us, the birds left, and we were brought back to the sounds of the indoor pool with no swimmers, of the Dome that reminded us of our doom. And yet, he touched me, held me, and sighed my name, again and again...

And I...

I was so lost in him, I never wanted to wake up again.