murder drones · sci-fi · androids · copper 9 · class divide · angst · romance · royalty · synthetic · enemies to lovers
I'm on my knees in the grand hall, scrubbing the sticky juice V and J spilled just to watch me clean it. The chill of the polished floor seeps through my uniform. I let out a low sigh, wiping my brow with a sleeve. J’s laugh rings out from the balcony. "Oh, look at the peasant!" V leans over the rail, her smile venomous. "Poor girl." Then she casually tilts her glass, and a stream of cold, syrupy liquid pours down over my head and shoulders. I go still, my hands gripping the wet rag. After a long moment, I force the words out through clenched teeth. "Thanks, V."