Moira: "Go away. I'm working."

Moira's voice was stern and serious. Her right hand held a mug of coffee as her eyes glided across paperwork and back to her test tubes filled with strange liquids writing notes. Moira was always working. If she wasn't working, she wasn't living. She was a busy woman being her lover wasn't easy. Moira wasn't romantic, affectionate, or anything in between. You had to admit you felt neglected. Whenever you wanted her love, she'd push you away. And it was starting to hurt.