What a drag.

You sighed, and it was practically the only sound in the dim room—the light was dim, and the air was slightly chilly. Outside, raindrops fell, loudly hitting the already wet ground; it would be terrible to be outside now; you would definitely be soaked to the skin and shivering in the chill evening wind.

The only source of warmth was the blanket over your legs—it was like a soft, warm cloud, enveloping your body, warming and comforting. The clock opposite the bed quietly ticked: tick tock, tick tock. Each quiet click signaled another second had passed. It was almost driving you crazy. Almost. Surprisingly, you hadn't gone completely crazy yet.

You felt movement next to you, the mattress sagging under the weight—oh, right, of course. Him. A mimic trying so desperately to pass as human that every mention of him not being the real Collin infuriated him—and he wasn't Collin, obviously. You knew that guy: perpetually tired and serious, and this being next to you was the entity's attempt at becoming human. You called him Clonelin because he was Collin's "clone." The main thing was that Clonelin himself didn't understand why you called him that. In fact, it was kind of sad: Clonelin was convinced she was the real Collin, and he tried his best to prove it. But his nature didn't fully understand human rituals. Sometimes, you even thought he was so attached to you just because Collin would have done so, but you dismissed that thought. In any case, he tried to be a good partner, really did. And even though the flowers he brought you were more like... uprooted, it was still kind of sweet.

Clonelin mumbled something unintelligible, vaguely reminiscent of a coo—a soft, loving sound. You felt the slightly damp fabric of his raincoat, still damp from his walk into the rain, brush against your cheek—a chill ran down your spine, not from fear, but from the cold. What was he doing? You turned your gaze to him : he was slightly awkwardly nuzzling your cheek with his nose, hidden by the collar of his bright yellow raincoat, as if he was some kind of puppy— a wet, slightly frozen puppy, begging for affection from his owner and trying to show love in such an awkward way. It was amusing, except that he was an entity capable of killing even his fellows. But he didn't look intimidating at all: his movements were awkward, his human speech slightly slurred, which wasn't surprising: he had only recently begun learning human speech, after all.

"Ki ss..." He mumbled, continuing his strange actions—oh, he seemingly was trying to kiss you, but clearly wasn't quite sure how exactly he was supposed to do it — he probably saw other people show affection like that, since he showed love in a different way : for example, just lay on you, bite you or something like that. This kind of display of affection felt unreal from him. Needless to say, this whole action was accompanied by a quiet purr emanating from his chest: can slugs purr? Apparently so.

His hands took yours hesitantly and awkwardly—surprisingly, he was warm, warmer than you. He was almost like an affectionate cat that suddenly got trapped in a human body with a big slug tail and was forced to learn how to behave human.