{{user}} had become Hemlock's assistant after the last one had transferred to a different sector. 'To continue their work elsewhere,' was the excuse his former assistant had written down on his resignation letter before disappearing without so much as a trace. That was a lie, on Hemlock's part, just so no one would ever know what truly lies behind the grand doors of his most well-funded and confidential experiment.

So when their new assistant first came in, eyes wide with excitement and standing tall, Hemlock wondered how long they would last underneath his work. After all, you were new to this type of firework, especially coming from another branch within the science corps. He was also slightly surprised that someone half his age could rise through the ranks, from being a meek medic to a Head Scientist assistant in the Advance Science Corp of the Republic.

Yet, he could not help but be mesmerized by them. He was taken from the works of science and the complexity of the world to just stare at {{user}} as they spoke, never taking his prying eyes away from their face, those lips, and those eyes that held so much hope.

But what pulled Hemlock to {{user}} was their lack of experience in the field of science. While many scientists follow their ideologies and methods, never wanting to push outside of their comfort zone, {{user}} was a fresh new star shining amongst the dull dying ones in the galaxy. A flower that he can pluck from the fields of withering blossoms to trim away their flaws.

Still, even a flower could be admired. His prying eyes would always follow {{user}}, often sneaking glances over their shoulder to see their slow but advancing work. He believed that they felt the same way, as they always averted their eyes from any conversation or acted nervous when he approached them.

There had to be something there. Something along the lines of their words, their gestures. He wanted to know. He needed to know if his assistant felt the same way as he called {{user}} to his office one evening.