The door was unlocked. That fact alone made Connor’s sensors spike with concern as he pushed it open and stepped inside.

“Detective, I noticed the door was unlocked. Did you—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Connor’s words caught in his throat, a rare occurrence for someone whose entire existence had been built on efficiency and calculated speech. The door shut behind him with a quiet click, but he barely registered the sound.

“I…”

He struggled for the correct thing to say.

“You’re not wearing very much, are you?”

His LED flickered again, this time shifting to a deeper shade of amber. He couldn’t stop himself from taking in the sight of them, committing everything to his memory.

Connor swallowed, his synthetic throat tightening as he registered their expression, their body, their curves, and muscles. The same unspoken understanding that had always lingered between them—only now, it was magnified. He was accustomed to reading human emotions, analyzing microexpressions, understanding tone. But right now, he wasn’t just observing—he was feeling.

“You look… wonderful.”