Louise Halevy presses her hot mouth to his, all desperation, all sadness, all hurt, all loneliness. Revive's first reaction is to try and pull back, but she won't have that.
The way she presses him against the wall sends his skin crawling. The way she runs her tongue against his unresponsive lips and slips her tongue into his warm mouth, runs the tip of it across his teeth and weaving it around his tongue. He can't help but to react a bit to that-- trying to get his away from hers. She doesn't care or she doesn't notice and takes that as his step in a dance she considers theirs, reacting accordingly.
She's all hard muscle and soft curves. The swell of her breasts against his chest and the poke of her ribcage against his. The way she gasps when his hands go to press firmly on her waist, the way she tries to press closer when those same hands gently try to pry her off-- they're far too needy, far too human.
It's repulsive, Revive thinks. Humans truly are inferior.
She breaks that kiss and is breathing hard, her face flushed, eyes half-lidded and a trail of thin spit down the side of her soft mouth. "I…" she starts, closing her mouth before she's even really begun. Revive studies her with a critical eye.
He tries to lift his hand to press it to her shoulder, to push her off that way. But she takes it in an iron-vice grip, her knuckles popping and turning white under her fair skin. If he were something else he might have winced. But as it were he's built for more than that. He raises a brow, expression drifting into that of a bit of befuddled amusement, and she tries to conceal her humanity from him. He can see the shine of tears rising over her eyes and he's maybe interested a little bit by this, but not nearly as much as he is repulsed.
"Louise Halevy," he says, tone formal and smooth. It's the trademark of an Innovator to keep his face and voice smooth as stone even when doing something he despises, Revive thinks, even if their close proximity sends a shiver down his spine, even if he wants to spit and wash out his mouth and wipe his face clean of her disgusting essence. She tasted faintly of the gruel they feed them in the cafeteria. Tone sliding to become slightly chiding in the way a teacher may address a misbehaving pupil, Revive asks her: "Just what do you think you're doing?"
There's no reply. He opens his mouth to comment as she releases his arm. He moves to place it on her shoulders and moves to again pry her away, but she's persistent, persistent, persistent, in a way that tries his patience. She kisses him again, and he again tries to maneuver away. He can feel the wetness against his cheek and can see them squeezing a bit out of her tightly closed eyelids, wringed out like a soaked rag. Proof of her humanity.
Louise's shaking hands mean to undo the clasps of his jacket and they manage to do so, her hands sliding up the smooth skin of his waist and chest, pausing and hesitating. She's so unsure, he can tell from the way she moves against his rigid form. So unsure. Her hands move towards the waistband of his pants, pausing as if asking if that's alright. He's sure what she expects to find there and is also sure of what she won't find.
Revive loses a bit of his patience, pushes her hard enough off of him that she stumbles a little against the floor. "Warrant Officer," he says, as the door slides open and Hilling drifts inside, a smirk on her face. "That is more than enough." Louise seems to realize-- eyes spring wide and dash between Hilling and Revive, transformed momentarily into a skittish animal. A rabbit or a mouse staring down the barrel of a gun, the jaws of a wolf. She starts, and seems to snap out of whatever foolish daydream she'd been in. She salutes, the tears visible on her face, and makes her leave as quickly as she is silent.
"What was all that about?" Hilling says, watching Louise's retreating back. "You know, I never suspected you to be the type--"
Adjusting his jacket, redoing the buttons and pressing it flat, Revive wipes his face with the back of his sleeve and looks at it as though it's something disgusting. "Hilling Care. Did you not recently accept the invitation of--"
"Hey, hey! It's for a meal that's not the usual garbage they serve us up here." After the door is completely shut, eyes sliding towards his face and her catlike grin growing the smallest amount, "you'd do the same thing for a glass of your favorite wine, wouldn't you? But that's not the point. That sort of behavior… I didn't think you had it in you, Revive Revival."
"It may look incriminating," he says. "But I assure you, it was nothing of the sort. It is unfit for an Innovator. You know this."
Hilling just smirks.