"Nellow."
"Is that we’re you’re from?"
"Yes."
Tin looked at him, the man who she called her master. She knew when he lied. She saw him do it to everyone he talked to, especially her. There weren’t any tells for her to read, he never stumbled or hesitated, and she had seen it work repeatedly, but there was something about his eyes, a hollowness she thought she saw.
She'd asked about his past, but his gaze was always empty, even while he spoke with a smile. He never asked her about her past, but it was nothing she wasn’t used to. She had grown up being treated as an object, both a tool and a toy. Intimate conversation was not something a slave should expect from their master, but she had never had a master who made her feel this way.
"M-M-Master…" she stammered.
He turned to her, trying to remember the last time he heard her talk so nervously. "Yes?"
"Please, forgive my impudence, but I know you’re lying to me. I beg you, tell me where you came from, the things you’ve done, anything. I only wish to know more about you."
He stared at her, unsure of what his next move should be, but his fear waned as he saw the wetness of her eyes. "I talked in my sleep, didn’t I?"
"Please forgive me for lying to you, but some of the things I heard… I didn’t think you’d want someone like me to know."
"It doesn’t go well when I tell the truth. Being honest has brought me nothing but trouble."
"Very well. If you refuse to tell the truth, I can live with that. I can live with lies, as long as they come from you. All I want is something I can paint in my mind, a scene that I can see you in."
Noah looked up at the sky. "I grew up near the coast, and my father had a boat. He wasn’t a fisherman or merchant, rather, it was a hobby. In the summer, when the weather was good, my family would go out on the water and go fishing, simply for the enjoyment of it. We’d catch mackerel and try to use them as bait to catch big stripers, but it never worked out. One time, we brought our dog with us, and I remember finding a grape-sized tick on his eyebrow and putting it on my hook, seeing if I would catch anything. You wouldn’t believe how bright it is out on the water."
Tin moved closer to Noah, clutching his arm and leaning her head on his shoulder. At night, when they lay in bed together after having sex, she would often snuggle up to him just like this. "Please, tell me more."
So Noah regaled her, telling her what it was like to grow up being poor, what it was like to grow up being rich. He recalled fond memories of his siblings and holidays as an only child. Noah told her how his parents loved and supported him, then how they screamed and beat him. He described the modern world's technology and the fight for survival in the apocalypse aftermath.
Tin listened without saying a thing, never questioning his contradictions, only enjoying the stories that Noah wove and what they told her about the man he was.
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