Deicide

February 6 23xx

"I don't think I'll last two more days." Eden laid with half of his body hanging off the bed. Silas sat on the other side of the bed, he was reading a book on Eden's Glasses.

"Well, you could always try and sleep for today and the next two days."

"That sounds completely impossible." Eden rolled back, sending his legs over his head, and ended up on his knees. "I can't wait for our next job."

"Speaking of which," Silas moved towards the edge of the bed, "how's your chest?"

"Fine." Eden patted his chest through his shirt.

"Can I see?"

"Sure." Eden grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up. True to his word, the three gashes were dark pink, but entirely closed.

"That was fast."

"It's been a few days."

"That was still fast though. Normally, it'd take at least a month to heal from that. You took less than a full week." Silas laid back on the bed.

"Slow enough to be annoying." Eden flared his wings out a little and leaned against the wall of the ship. He glanced around, looking for anything to do. Finally, he got up and made his way to his locker, where he grabbed the bottle of alcohol Howlan had gotten him from the last planet.

"Are you drinking?"

"Yeah, want some?"

"It's not even noon yet, let alone five-thirty."

Eden looked between Silas and the bottle. "Oh, eat me." He pulled the cork out of the bottle and drank straight from it.

Silas frowned at the wording, but didn't comment on it. He had been paying attention to Eden, waiting for the inevitable moment that he would get hungry. Eden hadn't yet.