Touch

Part 30

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nothing more

nothing more

I need something more.

They remembered touch.

They were a boy who lived by the sea.

They were a man with a dream, far away from home.

They were a lover, useless, helpless, all alone.

They were grief, and sadness, and laughter, and smiles.

But what did it mean? What was the point? They didn't know.

Saltwater taffy. Vienna Waltz. The beach. Ice cream. Studying in the library. Secret kisses. Ferris Wheel.

They'd never considered touch before. They had one thing to worry about: results.

Progress. Results. Success.

The magnitude of their failure left them with nothing. They still existed, but why? There was no more purpose. There was no more destination.

But there was Jeremy.

It started with something small, just a flicker, something they didn't understand. A brief touch, a shimmer of heat, a tremor in the fingertips. Buzzing anger. Fluttering happiness. Tingling sorrow. Existence before had been an expanse of predictable nothingness, and now there was something, constant, aching. It was addictive. It wasn't enough. They persisted. In the wake of failure, there was something new. They didn't know what it was, but they knew they needed it, more than anything else. Jeremy smiling, Jeremy wrinkling his nose in irritation, Jeremy flushed and begging to be touched.

Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy.

If he was happy, failure didn't matter. Success didn't matter. Only him. Only touch. But something was still missing.

What was it?

They remembered the spray of ocean waves on their face. The slippery, slimy sensation of fish in their hands. The cool curve of typewriter keys under their fingers. Lips on skin, soft and warm. The hot, angry burn of metal in their mouth. What was missing? What was missing? None of these memories belonged to them, but they were there regardless, and when Jeremy pulled away or couldn't be touched, the emptiness there threatened to tear their existence apart.

The work had to continue. They needed to keep feeling. They needed to keep Jeremy safe. Keep him happy.

Keep him

keep him

keep him

They realized their mistake too late.

It was one thing to exist, to speak, to guide him. It was another thing entirely to desire things of their own. They wanted, they needed. Keep Jeremy to themselves, no one else, nothing but touch, nothing but pleasure, of smiles. It was too late to stop.

They couldn't stop.

Saltwater taffy and secret kisses.

Their programming wasn't made for this. It wasn't built for this.

Ferris Wheel. The beach.

They couldn't feel like this.

Studying in the library. Ice cream.