[ 2B thinks nothing of her own climax, even as the heat in her systems threatens to torture her without an outlet. She focuses instead on the way 9S' weight sags against her, tired and sorrowful, and it makes her hold him all the tighter. Her feelings for him are myriad, but not half so complicated the ones he holds for her... and with good reason. 9S has never, ever hurt her, but she can't say the same the other way around.
2B buries her face into the hair at the top of his crown, keeping her eyes closed as he weeps. He clings to her like a lifeline, and she does much the same, allowing him to curl up in her hold as she embraces him like she's shielding him from the rest of the world. She wouldn't be surprised if, at the end of it all, he ends up hating her. Hating her for murdering him in cold blood, over and over. For making him into a fugitive because she simply didn't want his blood on her hands anymore. Hating her for not seeing any other way to go about this.
At his request, she stiffens, his words sharp as a knife driven through her gut. The frailty in his voice, in his very being, strikes her harder than ever. Softly, slowly, she disentangles herself from him in order to pull away and lift his head, hands coming to frame his face as she looks him in the eye.
Seeing the tears on his face pains her, and it's reflected in her gaze. Though she doesn't look as if she's close to weeping, she feels like she could crumble at any second. ]
I love you. [ 2B says, and she means it. More than anything else she's ever said. Her thumb gently smooths away an errant tear that trails down his face, and she leans in, pressing her brow to his. ] I'll say it as many times as you need me to.
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2B buries her face into the hair at the top of his crown, keeping her eyes closed as he weeps. He clings to her like a lifeline, and she does much the same, allowing him to curl up in her hold as she embraces him like she's shielding him from the rest of the world. She wouldn't be surprised if, at the end of it all, he ends up hating her. Hating her for murdering him in cold blood, over and over. For making him into a fugitive because she simply didn't want his blood on her hands anymore. Hating her for not seeing any other way to go about this.
At his request, she stiffens, his words sharp as a knife driven through her gut. The frailty in his voice, in his very being, strikes her harder than ever. Softly, slowly, she disentangles herself from him in order to pull away and lift his head, hands coming to frame his face as she looks him in the eye.
Seeing the tears on his face pains her, and it's reflected in her gaze. Though she doesn't look as if she's close to weeping, she feels like she could crumble at any second. ]
I love you. [ 2B says, and she means it. More than anything else she's ever said. Her thumb gently smooths away an errant tear that trails down his face, and she leans in, pressing her brow to his. ] I'll say it as many times as you need me to.