She's human in some ways, and pure machine in others.
Sometimes he lets himself believe that he can see something in her eyes, something that makes him believe that maybeshe could feel something, anything, for him. But the next second, as she talks about eliminating something (or someone), her cold eyes stare through him, and he knows she is without feelings or conscience. He hates her for it. But he hates himself more.
xxxxx
Sometimes when they kiss he almost believes she means it, and sometimes when they fuck he almost thinks she feels.
It scares him at times, how much he feels for her, without getting anything back, but he doesn't know what to do about it. He's tried to stop it a thousand times, but to no avail. She's a part of him now, and she always will be.
Her eyes burn through him, her gaze never faltering. It shouldn't surprise him that she's so good at this, when she's so good at everything else. He wonders why the people who made her would program her to be like this, or if this was meant to happen all along.
She dips her head, her lips brushing his abdomen, his chest, his forehead, before settling on his lips. Her fingers dig into his back and she pulls him closer to her, and he can feel the strength in her thin arms, artificial heat radiating from her body. She rocks against him, agonizingly slow, and he groans with frustration, and something like a smile flickers over her beautiful face.
When they're done, he turns around to face her, and watches her lie there. Her eyes are closed, feigning sleep. Her long eyelashes are fanned out over her flawless skin, covering staring eyes, eyes that see but never smile.
He hates her suddenly, hates how fucked up this is, hates that he can never be normal, she can never be normal, this can never be normal.
He runs his fingers through her hair, then pulls her towards him roughly, and she lets him, an almost questioning look on her face. He whispers in her ear, his words cold and hard and flat. "This can never happen again". He jerks her hair again. "Never". His voice rises. "You hear me?" She nods obediently. "I understand," she says quietly. She sits up and finds her clothes, pulling her shirt on over her head and she looks at him for a long moment, as if analyzing his next move.
Never again, she repeats. He nods at her, closing his eyes as she leaves.
He hears the door click shut softly behind her, and she moves soundlessly through the house. He pictures her moving through the rooms, wonders if she thinks of him.
He pulls the pillow over his head and wonders if he'll ever be able to get her out of her head. He'd told her it could never happen again, but he knew that it would. After all, that's what he says to her every night.
I wrote this a long time ago. Let me know what you think! Reviews are love :D ttfn