He looks deeply into your eyes, yellow irises scanning your face. Even at a tender moment like this, Genos is still a bit robotic. Even when your face is so dangerously close to his, and even as you move closer.

He can't move, he wishes he can. The only parts of him that move are his cold hands. One tangled in between your fingers, one stroking its thumb along your thigh.

Genos can't believe this is happening. Someone as pretty as you, wanting a cold cyborg like him. You're gorgeous.