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"It’s hard," Sarina says, unprompted, "to be human."
Seven nods. This is how Sarina starts conversations; she has grown quite used to it.
"But I must say I quite like it." Sarina looks at Seven, not meeting eyes, never meeting eyes — neither of them are fond of it. "Do you?"
Seven considers it. "Not at first," she answers, "but now, I consider it... a generally positive experience."
Sarina hums in assent. "It wasn't much fun in the beginning for me, either. I had existed for years, and then suddenly everything was so..." She frowns, unable to find the correct words.
"So much," Seven finishes for her.
Sarina nods. "So much I could comprehend for the first time in my life. It took me years to get used to it. Sometimes I'm not sure I am used to it now."
"I'm not sure anyone truly is," Seven muses. "They're just better at pretending."
"Better than you?"
Seven tilts her head, a silent question.
Sarina ducks her head. "You're better at pretending than I am," she mumbles. "Sometimes I feel a bit jealous."
"I would like to hug you," Seven says softly.
Sarina crashes into her, and Seven feels quietly pleased that she'd intuited correctly. They sit there, Sarina clinging onto Seven's shoulders, until she feels Sarina easing her grip.
"I'm not that good at pretending either," Seven says, picking up the thread of their conversation again. "But I do not mean to make light of your feelings. If there was something I felt I could teach you, I would offer."
Sarina lets go of Seven, and shakes her head. "It helps," she says, slowly, "to know that you struggle too. That I'm not alone."
Seven feels warm inside, when Sarina says that, and she's certain it shows on her face.
"I'm glad I have you," Sarina continues. "I'm glad we have each other."
"I am glad, too."
