[ Krouse watches Noelle hunker over the robot, bent into an arch like a fossilized spine towering over the cool marble floors of a museum. The full scope of her is somehow easier to see at a distance, her presence up close cut into segments depending on where he looks.
Almost everything about her is changed, warped and rippled from her head to her many toes. He sees that. But what he notices is how her hair falls around her scarred little face, a bronze-shot tumble of messy brown that she was always absently tucking behind her ears when she stooped over anything interesting and complicated she wanted to take apart.
He's glad her attention is elsewhere. He doesn't want to think about what he looks like with his bruised heart a warm, skittish flutter in his throat and a wanting buzz in his palms he tries to wipe off on the rough weave of his jumpsuit.
Whatever she's asking, it's too quiet for him to hear. He quickens his steps slightly, anxious over missing anything. ]
Kind of cool, right?
[ Like he'd point out a comic book he thought she might like, or show off a clip of some strategy he'd been working on. Her approval was always better than anyone else's, because he could trust when it was real.
He couldn't have given less of a damn about the robots until he had her to show them to. They're cool if she thinks they're cool. ]
They don't say a lot, but they're complicated. General purpose workers, I think.
no subject
Almost everything about her is changed, warped and rippled from her head to her many toes. He sees that. But what he notices is how her hair falls around her scarred little face, a bronze-shot tumble of messy brown that she was always absently tucking behind her ears when she stooped over anything interesting and complicated she wanted to take apart.
He's glad her attention is elsewhere. He doesn't want to think about what he looks like with his bruised heart a warm, skittish flutter in his throat and a wanting buzz in his palms he tries to wipe off on the rough weave of his jumpsuit.
Whatever she's asking, it's too quiet for him to hear. He quickens his steps slightly, anxious over missing anything. ]
Kind of cool, right?
[ Like he'd point out a comic book he thought she might like, or show off a clip of some strategy he'd been working on. Her approval was always better than anyone else's, because he could trust when it was real.
He couldn't have given less of a damn about the robots until he had her to show them to. They're cool if she thinks they're cool. ]
They don't say a lot, but they're complicated. General purpose workers, I think.