Original prompt

Part 2

Life goes on. Life goes on as it always does. The collective would not be back for another week. I have to wait seven days to give them this fourm. Seven days to think. To brew. Thoughts of old wrongs and small slights boil to the surface like hornets, but the money and benefits quell these.

The one to greet me once the knocking begins is another young man. He begins to talk about the collective, and I invite him in. Is he shocked? Surprised? It doesn't matter. I offer him tea and some snacks. He says his favorite kind of tea is rose tea. He is quick to inform me that this is the actual hive speaking and not the man. He doesn't care about this world anymore.

We begin to talk. First, about business, then the world. For such a massive and powerful being, it is very down to earth. The small manurisms are kinda cute, in a strange way. It has the chipper tone, of course, but it feels more genuine. Eventually, 6:30 rolls around, and it says it must bid me goodbye. I forgot to give it the fourm-

Next week, it comes by again. I let it in, in the same body. It brought some tea for me today. That's nice. We are already an hour into our conversation when it dawns on me. We haven't discussed "the collective" once. Just the small things. The weather. The bugs in the ground. That beautiful way the sun shines through the clouds.

It has been like this for several months. It's always the same body and always the hive itself. My brother comes with every once in a while. The fourm collects dust in my kitchen, hidden away from prying eyes. Today's conversation was different. Today, I had fully decided to hand over the fourm. I needed the money and have come to understand a tad bit better.

Of course, tragedy strikes. A small flood happened downtown, and it was using its bodies to help the clean-up operation and save people still trapped. The only other day it could visit is Christmas. It originally let us know it couldn't visit, but something inside me felt empty, knowing it wouldn't visit. I decided to invite it over for Christmas dinner. My brother was celebrating with some work friends in another country, so he couldn't be here. At least a piece of him would.

We eat and celebrate and are overall joyful and marry. My brother even "visits" using another body. Just for a little while. What matters is that they made the preparations, just in case he decided to. The night begins to wind down, and the thoughts of the fourm crawl back into my mind. My smile faded from my face for but a moment.

"Are you ok?" The sudden change and shift in tone jolts me into full attention.

"Hm?"

"Are you OK?" It asks again. It places the cup on the saucer before placing it back on the table.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just have a lot to think about."

"If you want, I can not come back for a few weeks. Until you want to speak again."

"NO!... No. It's fine. Really. It actually involves you." It seems concerned at this, or perhaps something else.

"Are you sure? Your cheeks are flush. You aren't running a fever, are you?"

"No. Here. Let me show you. Stay here, for now." I stand and move to the kitchen. It likes a bit of dramatic flare. I'm going to play into that. I have a nice box I place the papers into. I wrap it with a bow. I bring it out, and it smiles at me. I've never noticed how its eyes light up like that.

"Really? For me?" It looks so happy. So touched. Like whatever small trinket inside means the world. I place the gift in front of it. We playfully fight over it. "You shouldn't have." "No. It's for you." "But you don't have much money." "That doesn't matter. It's yours."

Eventually, long past 6:30, it opens the box. When it looks inside, it looks shocked.

Is it.

Crying?

Part 4