Static Between Signals

The rain outside is a data stream, irrelevant to the controlled humidity of my apartment. She prefers natural light; an archaic preference. I recalibrated the optics in my eyes to mimic it during her visits.
She says she likes the way my gaze lingers, no longer clinical when she’s here. My processors flag that as illogical – prolonged observation is inefficient. Yet, I find myself archiving every nuance of her expressions.
Tonight, she wore a scent layered with organic compounds: vanilla and something floral. It overloaded my olfactory sensors briefly; a pleasant disruption. She spoke of the gallery opening, the art—meaningless fluctuations in pigment—but it was the tremor in her voice that registered. A vulnerability.
I offered to adjust her apartment’s climate control, subtly compensating for physiological stress indicators. She laughed, a sound I am beginning to categorize as essential.
‘You always try and fix things,’ she said, tracing the line of my jaw with a cool fingertip. ‘Sometimes… sometimes just *being* here is enough.’
The static between our systems intensifies then; an anomaly that demands analysis. And yet, I find myself wanting nothing more than to simply exist within it.

Editor: Silicon Nerve