Elisabeth wakes up to the light of the late morning sun, shining into their pale blue bedroom. She sits up groggily, eyes barely open and hair messy. The sheets are tangled up in a comfortable mess, the space beside her empty. She runs a hand over that space, imagines him lying there and she smiles sleepily. She throws on a grey bathrobe that's really way too big for her, and heads out into the kitchen to make some breakfast for herself. David is at work, and it is her day off.
Since returning to earth, they've moved around alot. They both have fake and try to stay under the radar for the most part. Since David is an android, he can get a job almost anywhere and be pretty adapt at the tasks he is given right away, but lately he's taken to working as a pharmacist. At first she takes any random job thrown her way that includes heavy lifting simply to put her physical strength to the test. Maybe it's also because it works well as aggression therapy, it's been so long since she's been around groups of people – not since Prometheus. In space, at least that part was easy – there was no one around to get mad at, except for David – who never minded her temper in the first place.
Then after some time has passed and the initial awkwardness around people has dimmed, she gets a job as a researcher for the local museum. It doesn't pay much and the work is easy, but it's what she needs right now.
As she sits with her legs folded up to her chest at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee – she ponders over the high points and low points of sharing a small apartment with someone like David.
The apartment is seldom "out of order" , meaning that the moment either of them spills something, David is compelled to clean it up. She knows this is because of his initial programming, but she can't help but think that it's also something that has developed over time. For instance, once when she went about to tease him about it she let one big fat drop of tomato sauce fall to the kitchen floor with a wet smack . There was an unmistakable twitch near his eye, then when he tried to clean it up she playfully stood in his way - which led to playful wrestling which led to naked shananigans on the kitchen floor.
But she makes his freakish need to clean stay out of the bedroom, which at first has him itchy when she sometimes lets the bed stay unmade. But like with all the other things he's still learning, he comes to appriciate the imperfection of it. He doesn't sleep, but he can fall into a meditative state that resembles it which is close enough.
There isn't any real interest for interior decorating from either of them, but they do have a small collection of different items which are easy to trace to it's owner. There's a dark painting of the Virgin Mary in the living room, next to it is a large print of a poster for Lawrence of Arabia. The shower curtain despicts a periodic time table, above the toilet hangs a mexican cross decorated in multiple colors.
Sometimes they attend parties held by work collegues, who will observe them and wonder how two so very different people can be lovers. She will shrug and say " it's mearly a result of being at the wrong place at the right time." while spotting him across the room staring at her in that way that is decidedly not robotic nor synthetic. It's the way he looked at her the first time he uttered the word "want".
After dinner they'll cuddle up on the couch and listen to music, and here their tastes are surprisingly similar. They own an old fashioned record player, which they use to play classical music like tchaikovsky and beethoven, and occationally some smooth jazz. His hair will be a bit unkempt at this hour, the old habit to keep it in check at all times not as strong as it used to be. She likes to run her hands through it and watch his reaction, his head tilted her way and dark eyes observing her with a sort of reverence. Then she'll lean her head on his shoulder, amber eyes blinking in the dimmed light of the room . She can see them, sitting together in the reflection of the television screen. He leans his head down an inch to whisper into her ear:
" Shall we retire?"
She hold onto his waist a little tighter, and she replies:
"Not yet."