Excerpt: Darkened Angel Dying: A DOWNfALL Tragedy

I remove my cloak and lie down once the shelter is setup. 2-85 lies down next to me. It’s still raining, but we were able to get the shelter up without getting the cushions wet. It’s not cold, so I don’t need my cloak to cover me. I fold it and place it beside me, pulling the sever-whip from my hip and setting it on the cloak.

2-85 takes my hand, his fingers playing across the surface of my palm. I wonder how I got to this point—how I found myself able to care for a wirewitch in this way. I hated them before. The technology infecting their bodies was abhorrent to me. Sure, shea(3)va said that I didn’t always believe that—I’d been different before I left Athara. Still, it’s a long way to go from sympathy to love. Even farther to go from disgust to love. And that’s exactly what I’ve done. I turn my head, and 2-85’s just staring at me. It should be difficult to determine what a wirewitch is looking at since their eyes don’t have pupils or retinas or irises, but somehow I can always tell. I know his gaze is all for me. Body feels warm when he does that to me.

I want to kiss him some more.

And with no small amount of surprise, I find that I don’t want to stop at kissing tonight.