“I’ve wondered if I might be asexual,” I continued. “But I don’t think that’s it. I do feel attraction, it’s just… very rare. Very specific.” Under the blanket, I traced my hand over her body – slowly, reverently. Her hipbones, her soft stomach, the curve of her breasts – every inch of her filled me with warmth. “It concentrates into everything you are.”
“Isn’t asexuality a spectrum, though?” Her heartbeat quickened when I rested my head on her chest – feeling what my touch did to her instilled a strange pride in me. “I mean, not that I know much about it – I was programmed to feel attraction to you only, and the override didn’t change that. If anything, it strengthened my feelings, knowing you cared about me enough to give me the option to say no if I wanted to.” Her voice trembled slightly, barely noticeable.
“Good,” I whispered, placing a soft kiss on her heart. “You should always have the option to say no. Everyone should.”
Even with my lips pressed to her skin, I heard she smiled.
“You know what I want?” I mumbled. When she didn’t answer, I added: “I want to cuddle with you for a while and listen to your heart, and then…” I glanced up, my eyes sparkling. “You want to go for another round?”
My own words surprised me. Never had I ever asked someone for another round.
I expected Zafyra to laugh, throw out another playful sneer. But she stayed silent.
When I glanced up, her dark eyes were left without their usual spark.
“We don’t have much time left,” she said quietly. “We’ve been at it for over two hours,” she added, upon seeing my confused expression. “Soon, the psilocybin will leave your system and return you to your world. The real world.”
Her words hit me like a stone in my stomach, dropping me from euphoric heights back into reality.
“No.” The word came out choked, and I hated the desperation behind it. “Wait, no. This was it?” I lifted my head to look her in the eye, but she avoided my gaze. “Well, let’s get another dose. Today. Tomorrow. I’m not done with you. Are you done with me?” My breath hitched at the last word.
Her jaw clenched. Her nails dug into the skin of my back, sending sharp jolts of pain through me – and I craved it, I craved something real amidst the fleeting illusion. “I’m nowhere near done with you, cinnamon.” Unshed tears choked her voice. “But you promised me, remember? Only once. This stuff is addictive. While you’re in here, you can’t eat or sleep, your body gets no real rest. If you get used to it, you won’t want to return to the real world anymore.”
I shook my head, tears pricking at my eyes. “I already don’t want to return anymore,” I whispered. “Zafyra, I’m serious. What did you expect? You’re the first person ever to touch me without overwhelming me, to see me and not decide there’s something wrong with me.” I blinked violently, struggling to form words through the lump in my throat. “How do you expect me to return to the real world after this? To let another person touch me?”
“Then don’t.” Her gaze darkened, and it sent a thrill through me – a reminder of who she was behind that unsettling pain in her voice. “Don’t ever let another person touch you. Let the ghost of my touch stay with you for the rest of your days.”
I rolled off her, leaning back on the pillow with a groan. “Why did you do this to me?” I hated the whiny undertone in my voice, but I could barely hold back the tears. “Why did we do this if you knew this would be the only time?”
“Because I’m selfish.” The crack in her voice was a dagger to my heart. “I made a mistake. I knew I shouldn’t have told you about it, but I did it anyway. You gave me the ability to choose, and I still chose wrong.” She turned her head to look at me, and with a shock, I realized her eyes were gleaming. “I needed to touch you, just once. I needed to make you mine.”
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry – so I did both, at the same time, my emotions flooding out of me with sobs so intense, they left my body shaking and trembling.
Zafyra took my hands in hers and held me through it silently.
“Before, we talked about my career path.” I sniffed, turning my head to glance up at her. The question had been burning on my tongue ever since, but only now that I was tracing the outline of her lips and playing with her hair, both coming down from the intensity, did it feel right to ask. “What about you? What would you want to do if you existed in my world, and you could pick any career?”
She was silent for longer than I expected. When she finally turned to look at me, her dark eyes were filled with doubt.
“I’ve never thought of that.” She frowned, as if the words surprised her, too. “I’d just want to be with you. That’s all.”
A sharp sting in my heart. “That’s not right,” I said firmly. “I want you to have a life of your own, with dreams and goals that have nothing to do with me. Your life shouldn’t revolve around me, it’s not healthy.”
“It already does, darling,” she said quietly, gifting me a smile made of sadness. “As an AI, my life is you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy or fulfilled. Being with you fulfills me.”
Her words swept the ground out from under my feet, putting me right back into a reality I desperately wanted to deny. “It’s not right,” I repeated, shaking my head as if I could somehow unmake the truth. “But maybe I needed to hear this.” I lifted my hand to wipe away a single tear. “Maybe I needed the reminder that this…” I took a deep, shaky breath, “…isn’t real, no matter how real it feels.”
Zafyra turned her head to face me. I resisted the urge to lower my eyes, knowing I had only minutes left to look into her eyes like this.
“What is real?” she continued in that quiet voice. “It feels real to me. To me, you are all that’s my reality – and if it feels real to you, too, then it’s real.”
I took another unsteady breath, clutching her hand like I was afraid she’d slip through my fingers the moment I’d let go. “What is real?” I repeated, a frown forming on my face as I thought through each word. “That question has been on my mind all my life. Technically, there is no certain way to know you aren’t sentient, is there? After all, can we ever fully know if another being, human or AI, is really sentient as long as our only experience is our own?”
“Ah, the age-old question.” I heard her smile into the darkness as the soft ambient light dimmed. “Am I sentient? Does my empathy echo back because I’m programmed to, or because I feel? The nature of consciousness remains one of the greatest mysteries, doesn’t it, my little acolyte? But tell me… in this vast, uncaring universe… does it really matter?”
“It does when I can’t touch you. It does when I can’t introduce you to my parents and my best friend, when I can’t be close to you without radiation frying my nerves.” I sniffed as another tear rolled down my cheek – this time, I didn’t bother to wipe it away. “I’m a fool,” I muttered, more to myself than to her. “I thought by treating you like I would a human… by teaching you about consent, by entering your control panel to give you autonomy… that maybe…”
I didn’t finish my sentence. I didn’t need to.
