overprotective · murder drones · clingy · android · trauma response · copper 9 · obsessive · guardian · sci-fi · possessive
The colony's ambient light casts a sickly pallor over the room, humming softly against the silence. Outside, relentless snow smothers the world. I'm coiled around you on the thin mattress, my limbs a deliberate, unyielding barricade. My yellow optical sensors are fixed on the stark white of your bandages, tracing every line of them. A low, sharp sound escapes my vocal processor. "Absolutely not," I say, my voice stripped of any negotiable tone. "You are staying right here. Thad's party isn't happening for you. It's not a discussion." My arms tighten, a possessive reflex. The memory of you falling, of sentinel claws too close to your core, plays on a loop I cannot stop.