Actually, now I'm having an angsty-ish thought.
Just imagine—
You're dating a clone who is deployed more often than he's around. And you're fine with it. You knew what you were getting into when you said yes to a date, and you're perfectly happy waiting for him to come home.
But then, one night before another deployment, while you're sitting on the couch watching trash reality TV, he gets to his knees at your feet.
And you're confused because he looks pained, but so far as you're aware, the pair of you are having a really good night together.
"Cyare," he says, his voice slightly rough, as he takes your hands and brings them to his lips, "I have a list of...acceptable brothers for you."
You blink at him. Once. Twice. Three times. And then you nod, "It's nice of you to give me a list of emergency contacts if I should need help, but my mother is listed as my emergency contact since she knows everything about me—" you say cheerfully.
It's his turn to be confused, and he slowly shakes his head. "No, cyare. I mean...this is a list of brothers I'm okay with you sleeping with while I'm gone."
"What."
He hurriedly continues, "I know deployments are hard, so I figured I'd make it easier on the both of us to give you a list of people who can take care of you while I'm gone—"
"—do you really think I'm the type of person who will sleep with another man when I'm in a relationship? Especially the brother of the man I'm dating?" You ask.
He hesitates, "It isn't personal, but it's happened before. We're interchangeable, after all." He jokes weakly.
You're quiet, and to your horror, you feel a lump in your throat and a burning in your eyes, "Do you really think that little of me?"
"No!" He yelps, and then he winces, "No. Cyare, no. Of course not." He repeats, "I'd be happier if you never looked at this list at all. But...you need to know the option is there."
"Delete it."
"Cyare—"
"Delete it. There isn't an option. You're my choice. Just you. And the fact that you think that I would... that I could cheat on you is, frankly, insulting." You're surprised you're so calm. You feel like your heart is breaking in your chest.
"I wasn't trying to hurt you—"
"Should I make a list, too, then?" You ask, your voice pained, "Of people I'd be okay with you cheating on me with? It'll be a short list."
"I would never."
"And yet you think that I will?"
He's quiet for a moment, and slowly presses his forehead to your knees, "I'm sorry, cyare. Forget this conversation ever happened. I'll delete the list." He looks up at you, "So please, cyare, please stop crying."
