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Drawn In
Lucrecia liked sterility. She liked the cold, the void of emotion. It was one of the reasons that had drawn her to science, the comfort of facts and theory.
Absence of human interaction wasn't something she wanted, and she was happy to be in company of her intellect. What she didn't welcome was the smells that came along, the sweaty armpits, the hints of shampoo. They distorted the lab air.
The exception to that was Hojo, the faint metal of needles the only scent on him. His mind was like his body, iron cold, and Lucrecia found him incredibly attractive.