when we touch

I felt the trail of sweat dripping from my forehead, sliding to my neck. My skin, clammy and cold. ‘I need to reach home’ ‘It was a hard day’ ‘I need home’ my mind rang.

My hands fidgeted with the keys as I let out an annoyed sigh.

Stepping in, I ripped the coat off my body.

Marched towards my study. Throwing my glasses on the pile of papers on my desk I slip off the gloves from my hands revealing sweaty, red palms carrying the scars of long healed bruises. The gloves weren't for the cold though. It wasn't cold here. It was for protection. Protection of the people who think I was okay. Okay after what happened last year. After the blast. What they don't know is, it followed me home.

I look at my hands a little harder this time as if signaling them.

For a moment, it looks fragile. Like it could belong to anyone.

I almost laugh.

My fingers twitch before I can stop them.

The air tightens. Not a sound—just pressure, like the room suddenly noticed me. A thin blue line sparks across my skin, quick and sharp, and the smell hits next. Metal. Rain. Something burnt.

The light above me flickers.

I don’t look up. I already know.

I curl my fingers into a fist, heart thudding harder than the pulse in my wrist. Last year flashes behind my eyes—white light, screaming alarms, chemicals melting into heat, heat turning into pain. The radiation hitting me, burning something much more than just my skin.

I open my hand again, slower this time.

A spark jumps. Small. Controlled. Alive.

It settles into my palm like it belongs there, humming softly, impatient.

That’s why I wear gloves.

That’s why I flinch when someone reaches for me.

Because touch isn’t gentle anymore.

It’s a mistake.

But now I'm home.

I'm safe.

They are safe.

I blink my eyes to get the tears away.

And headed towards the book shelf.

My hands reached up, clicking at the narrow creek between the shelves as it turned revealing the dark, cold, blue neon lit room inside. It almost looked like a psychopath's laboratory.

Well you definitely could call me one.

My heels stomped as I entered.

There he was.

Standing straight. In the corner of the room. The neon light reflecting on his face.

Eyes closed. Posture utterly still. Almost inhuman. Almost.

My eyes glistened.

In no time I was standing facing him.

His shadow swallowing me whole.

My hands reached up as I looked up to see his face clearly.

My fingers hovered over his nose. A small bruising scar on his eyebrows that no machine would ever need.

Time seemed to slow when I was near him- it.

He is the only thing that keeps me sane after hiding from the whole world which thinks I'm normal.

I made something that'll love me even with my faults.

My palm slipped down near his heart.

As I finally let myself touch him.

Vibrations rang through him as I felt the rhythm start under my palm.

Thin lines of electric blue surged though his body. My powers hummed in response,slow and familiar.

He opens his eyes. Not brown. Not black. Glassy— gray blue, faintly glowing, like electricity frozen mid-thought.

His lips twitched into a low smirk as his voice vibrated through his metal aided chest. “You're late.” He said calmly, “I was beginning to miss the sound of your pulse.”

I didn't flinch, not even a flicker. I kept looking at him. Frozen. It always shocked me. How far I came. How he was the only one I could touch. Where my touch didn't harm. It conducted. It rebooted. Him. His whole system.

“Kai?” My eyes filled with tears.

“Who's that babe? I'm Emris, built by you” his voice grounding, almost human.

“Your heart beat just sped up. Should I pretend it wasn't because of me?” he said with a deep chuckle. Machines didn't do that. But he did. I designed him to be what I want. And I want- him.

“Behave Emris. It takes me 3 seconds to switch you off” I said, staring daggers into his eyes.

“Is that why you touched me to turn on, Celeste?”

“I can’t—”

The words slip out before I can stop them. Thin. Broken. “I just… need a minute.”

That’s all I say.

It’s enough.

He steps closer—not sudden, not loud. Slow, like he’s learned the shape of my fear. His head tilts, eyes dimming a fraction, the glow softening.

“Permission acknowledged,” he says quietly. “You’re overloaded.”

His arms come around me before I can think too hard about it.

Careful. Insulated. Designed for this.

The hum in my veins eases the second I lean into him. No sparks. No mistakes.

My forehead presses into his chest and the tears come fast, ugly, relieved. He doesn’t shush me. Doesn’t move away. Just holds me while my fingers curl into fabric and metal and whatever’s left of him.

“I’ve got you,” he says simply. “I won’t let you short-circuit.”

“The memories.You didn't erase them well. I still remember how you look at me” his voice suddenly sounded too human.

“Kai?” I say, closing my eyes. He didn't deny it this time.

After a few minutes. I break the hug and look at him. A soft grin reached my eyes. “You took the emotions code well.”

“You're good at that,” he said as he wiped the remaining wetness off my cheeks.

“I love you, Kai,” I say with a soft smile.

Before he could reply a light blinked on his temple. Mode reset.

“Celeste, I-” he paused mid sentence and his body stilled, standing straight as his eyes closed again.

It was always just a few minutes I could get with him. That was all my power could do. He didn't work on batteries or cables. He worked on my mistake.

My phone buzzed inside my pocket. I shifted my gaze back from his cold, still face and pulled my phone out.

It was Mom again.

“Hello?” I picked it up.

“Celeste? Baby are you okay? I missed you so much. Why don't you come home often?” her half excited half panicked voice came from the other end.

“Mom. What is it? I know you have news. Spill.” My voice, cold.

I had to be this way, to keep them away. From me. From danger.

“A- That-

Kai.

The police are closing his case. It's been a year. His body is not yet found. They are officially declaring him dead. Sunday, is the memorial.” There was a moment of silence, just the breathing from both the ends wheezed together.

“It's ok Mom. It had to happen one day. I'm ok.” I said, my voice low.

“If you feel low. Come to me. And- it's ok to miss him. But remember we can't bring him back. Let's just pray for his peace. Right baby? See you on Sunday. Bye.” I just hummed at it as the call ended.

As I brought the phone down from my ears the screen glowed. The wallpaper. Us. Kai and I.

Kai, my love.

How could they find you? When you were here? In a form nobody could imagine.

My lips twitched into a smirk.

I know you were dead.

Of course I know it. I was the one who found you. Begging you to wake up. But you didn't.

They couldn't bring you back.

But

I did.

Using my mistake.

My eyes drifted from the phone screen to my bruised, powered palm, then back to the screen.

Then my vision swam from the phone screen to the front.