6O laced her fingers together tightly where she stood among the rows of computers. There she is, the operator sitting tall and stoic before her screen, the humming of the Bunker (voices and mechanics) drowning out her fingertips tapping away. Elegance and efficiency rolled into one.Â
âOkay, here goes nothing...!â
This is it.Today is the day.
âE-excuse me, I...â Her hesitant steps brought her closer and the moment the other operator glanced up at her, she almost felt bad for disrupting her progress. But with a confidence check, 6O straightened up, puffing out her chest and squeezing her eyes shut.
âWould you please go out with me?!â
The words echoed, bouncing off of the metallic walls. The murmur of fellow units were hushed from the outburst. Second ticked by until she finally worked up the gall to peek an eye open and almost immediately her shoulders dropped. Visible confusion etched the operatorâs features and the more she gawked the more 6O found herself looking anywhere but the seated unit until she dropped her head to stare at the floor.
â...No, besides, emotions are prohibited.â
She barely squeaked out a quick âI understandâ before turning away and shakily making her way out of Command. The embarrassment, the agony of rejection, it was all too much. She half dragged, half fumbled her way through the Bunker, keeping her head down as she fought to hold back th tears. Donât cry. Donât cry, everythingâs okay. Itâs not the end.Â
She didnât make two steps into her room before she was bawling and practically throwing herself on her bed to smother her sorrow with the pillow.