Download by Lynn Townsend
Remy sat on the sofa, arm around Charlene. Through his uplink to her quarters, he kept the air softly perfumed with lilac and jasmine, the circulating fan quiet, and checked on the reconstituted dinner that would serve as her evening meal. As for himself, he fluctuated his own body temperature from warm enough to snuggle with to just cool enough to keep her sweat from making the two of them sticky and uncomfortable.
He could sweat, of course, if it was necessary for some aesthetic. Charlie liked him to sweat when they made love. She said it made her feel more human, a metaphor that Remy understood to be entirely true for her, while making no sense whatsoever. Humans were prone to bisect logic, to make poetry with feelings and couple ground solid facts with the w
