“Liv, I told you I’m fine-“

“Hush,” Olivia’s voice is sharp, almost cold in its suddenness. She was only moving Lucille, but they both knew that wasn’t what she was complaining about. Lucille is plopped down onto the lab counter, but not let go entirely. The actuator that held her shifts to drape over her shoulders, its claw dropping before her… She grabs it and runs her thumbs over the faint bumps. It’s the end of the work day, the hallways surrounding the lab are dark, and of course Lucille is on edge. “Stop it.”

The younger woman just shuffles in place, trying to get comfortable, as well as curling up into herself, “Sorry…”

“That too, quit it,” The tentacle Lucille holds squeezes around her hands, making her tense up and look down. It was more so because she couldn’t bear to look at her lover. What if she was upset? What if she was tired of this wallowing, “Please? I promise I am not upset at all.” Lucille just frowns before the tentacle squeezes around her shoulders. Somehow, she looks more disheveled after Olivia and that long day of work. The doctor lets herself sigh as she put her hands on either side of her lover on the counter. Only two tentacles were active, both emerging from under her dress like tails, and the second one finally rises up.

“But you know how I am!” Lucille chimes in as the second tentacle loosely wraps around her chest and upper arms. “I don’t know how you can say that- This happens too often, and I don’t want that to be the case, and I’m sorry.”

“Like I care,” Another squeeze to shut her up, “You could do this hourly and I wouldn’t. Just let me be here, honey.” Olivia only broke eye contact as she spoke to fix those dorky glasses, her eyes faintly lidded and her brows knit together. She looked her lover up and down, once, then again; she didn’t want to imagine how long Lucille had to go without someone to ground her.

Lucille just bites her tongue, a hint of a whine barely slipping from her throat. The metal ring of the actuator she held had slowly grown warm as she rubbed it, yet the soft silicone of the body stayed rooted around her. She had been crying earlier, it always came in waves, and her tears were just starting to dry as that cycle was interrupted. “I really just don’t…” Her voice is smaller, and her grip tightens absentmindedly, “I don’t get it.”