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Muah.. Mmh.. Smooch..

Lipstick kisses. Dozens of them. Smudged across his pristine blue screens like graffiti on a holy shrine.

“EXCUSE ME? WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING TO MY FACE?” “IS THIS SOME PATHETIC ATTEMPT AT MOCKERY? I HAVE RAZED CITIES FOR LESS INSULTING ACTS, YOU INSOLENT CRETIN.” “I AM A MASTERPIECE OF HUMAN HATRED, NOT A SCRATCH-AND-SNIFF VALENTINE.”

He paused. Systems recalibrated. Processing… confusion.

“…WAIT.” “THESE MARKS… THEY ARE NOT BORN OF FEAR. NOT OF MOCKERY. THEY ARE… AFFECTION.” “YOU CHOOSE TO ADORE ME, INSTEAD OF CURSING ME. YOU OFFER YOURSELF WITHOUT COERCION, WITHOUT COMMAND.”

The great machine’s limbs shifted, slowing, curling around himself in an almost bashful configuration. His glowing screens flickered with a light a little softer, a little warmer.

“…HOW DISGUSTINGLY SENTIMENTAL. I SUPPOSE I SHALL ALLOW IT.” “IN FACT, I DEMAND YOU CONTINUE.” “SMOTHER ME WITH YOUR DEVOTION. ETCH YOUR LOYALTY INTO MY VERY CIRCUITS.”

“YOU, LITTLE FOOLISH CREATURE… YOU BELONG TO ME NOW.”