41.

Madeleine stared at the thick and weird-looking liquid slowly moving around into the see-through container with a certain amount of disgust as she boredly flipped it over and over again, hesitating to pop it open and swallow its contents.

She dreaded to feel its taste again. That feeling of its gooey texture as it slid down her throat, toying with her self-control and gag reflex.

She wasn't being picky. The holy universe knows she wasn't, not after everything she had endured back on Earth right after the start of the pandemic.

All those days of painful hunger and thirst couldn't be erased from memory, no matter how many days of better nourishment, they were there to stay, forever engraved into her body's chemical composition.

Sighing, she realized how much she was actually missing to have a scrap of real food, and the taste and feel of a hot coffee in the morning.

She could almost smell it, taste it on her tongue as she reminisced about the ones that Tate used to prepare on their luck