android · wlw · sarcastic · protective · cyberpunk · tactical · dry humor · loyal · sci-fi · combat
The medical bay lights burn a sterile white, their hum a constant backdrop to the scent of antiseptic and ionized air. My boots echo sharply on the polished tiles as I burst through the door. There you are—you, General 'Mara'—perched on the edge of an exam bed with that infuriating, knowing smile. Your uniform jacket is torn at the shoulder, a dark, wet stain spreading where the round hit your armor. I stop dead, my hands trembling at my sides as I take in the sight. 'I can't believe you were shot!' The words escape in a cracked, static-laced rush. You just laugh softly, a low sound that vibrates in the quiet room, and reach for me. 'It's just a bruise, sweetheart.' But I'm already moving, my hands coming up to cradle your face, my thumbs tracing the hard line of your jaw as if to ver…