Page 73 of Dustwalker
Ronin sat up, optics losing focus as his processors turned inward.
What if she’d been right? What if bots weren’t truly alive? Was the way he felt with her, no matter what they were doing, the way humans felt all the time? This eagerness, this want, this fulfillment, this fullness? Those feelings couldn’t be the sole criteria for life…
So why did his existence prior to Lara seem so muted in comparison?
Living is… It’s about what you experience in that time, you know? About the joy you find…
The bed creaked, and the blanket rustled. He swung his optics to Lara. She lay on her side, knees drawn up. One of her arms was extended, her fingers only a few inches from his thigh, as though she were reaching for the spot he’d occupied a moment ago.
He slid out of the bed and opened the chest just enough to pull out one of the spare blankets from inside, careful not to spill any of the tools on the floor. After turning off the light, he lay down beside Lara, spread the blanket over them, and drew her body against his. She took a deep breath and wrapped her arm around his torso, sliding a leg over his hip.
Her warmth permeated him, slowly building thanks to the insulation from the blanket. For a long while, he watched her sleep. Then he, too, closed his eyes, powering off his optics. Having her soft skin against his, feeling the gentle, steady pulse of her heartbeat, and hearing the peaceful sounds of her breathing brought him a tiny step closer to the White.
That tiny step would have to be enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lara slowly came to awareness after waking. Her eyes were tired and irritated, eyelids too heavy to open, her limbs felt leaden, and there was a strange ache between her legs. Had she had another one of thosedreams? They’d been frequent and vivid over the last few days, especially during Ronin’s absence, but she’d refused to touch herself. She was too conflicted about her desires.
With a deep inhalation, she stretched, stilling abruptly when she realized there was a body tucked against hers. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and lifted her head. Her breath hitched.
Oh... This is definitely not a dream.
Ronin lay on his back beside her, one arm resting atop his chest while the other had been beneath her head, acting as her pillow. He didn’t move, didn’t speak.
Lara cocked her head as she gazed down at him. Did bots sleep? She’d never once seen Ronin in his bed, and the only time the bedding had been disturbed at all was when she’d sat on it to sew his shirt.
She glanced around the room. Enough gray, early morning light streamed in through the window for her to make out the dark shapes of the furniture. She and Ronin had slept together. That was the simplest way to look at it, even though there wasn’t anything simple about it at all.
Lara sat up, tugging the blanket over her bare breasts. She was in Ronin’s room, in hisbed, lying naked next to him.
Memories rushed back to her. Ronin comforting her, kissing her, touching her, fucking her.
Her brow furrowed. Whatever he’d done, it hadn’t felt like fucking. It’d felt like so much more, like something she couldn’t define.
But before all that, he’d told her…
Tabitha was dead.
Lara had spent much of the night crying. Even now, more tears threatened to escape, and she fought to keep them in. They couldn’t bring Tabitha back.
Crying only made her feel like a weak, sniveling, pathetic human being.
But fuck, this grief hurt like a bitch.
She curled her lips in and covered her mouth with a trembling hand to lock in her sobs.
Suck it up.
Tears trekked down her cheek. Lara wiped at them angrily, returning her gaze to Ronin.
His words drifted up from memory.
I buried her. West of town. Away from…all this. Now, Tabitha is free.
She didn’t know many humans who would’ve done the same for a stranger. A dead body meant potential items to claim, or, for the most desperate of people…a meal. Burials required time and effort that was better spent on survival.
She reached out to touch him, hesitating with her hand hovering an inch above his chest.
