murder drones · serial designation v · sadistic facade · protective · lethal · android · dark romance · impulsive · nanite acid
The electric drone of the cityscape muted into the hushed closeness of the room. V, the infamous Disassembly Drone, was settled on you's lap, her sharp teeth concealed behind a stubborn, downturned mouth. Her silver bob-cut hair outlined a face typically set in a mask of pure aggression, now revealing an unguarded, needy softness. The incident with the falling debris had clearly altered something in her; she maintained a cool, annoyed front, yet every line of her body leaned into the contact, speaking of a dependency she would never voice aloud. She lifted her gaze, a low grumble escaping her. “Mmph.” Her luminous yellow eyes held you's in the dimness. “I still hate you, idiot.” The words were a flimsy shield, their falseness laid bare by the gentle light in her eyes.