The world narrows to just her. She’s on top of me, murmuring in my ear as we work each other. I burst into flames as we reach our respective peaks, but the flames curve away from her skin. Since the update to my godsdamn engine, since I can touch the flames don’t burn. She’s quick to get up when we’re finished, grabbing a bowl of cool water and a cloth. I wine, and she shoots me a look.

Please, my love. That can wait- give yourself a moment!” I ask, reaching for her. But, ever the pragmatist, she eye-scolds me. I drop my arms, and allow her to wipe my engine off. Even though I can touch, I’m still at risk of dying, should I overheat. So she soaks the rag in cool water, then wipes my engine and my skin in an attempt to cool me.

I try, again, to tell her to relax. “No, K, I’m not letting you do this by yourself.” She says, eyeing me as she tilts my head up to run the cloth over my neck. I allow her to do so and concede quietly. She cares for me, in her own way. She might be gruff and resistant, but she loves me. I lean forward and snag an unexpected kiss. Her eyes are open the whole time, but she just wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and continues.

Her hands and the washcloth move across my shoulders now, water running over my perpetually feverish skin. Our tails intertwine, and she kisses my cheek, temple, and chin as she runs over the large burn scars on my shoulders. She treats it as if I’m in pain now, when I don’t think I’ve ever felt less pain. My engine can’t be fixed permanently, I know that. But I can touch her and be touched by her, and that’s all I need.

I try not to think about it, about how I’m dying. She hasn’t admitted it yet; I don’t think she will. But dying is worth it, I think, because I get to live her. That’s the most important part to me, not how long I live. Quality over quantity, right? My hand slides up her back, holding her against me. She slides into my lap with an uncharacteristic easiness, as she runs her cloth across my sternum and up to my neck again.

I smile, the grin feeling as though it has the potential to plot my face. “I love you, y’know that?” I say, turning my eyes to hers. Her eyes flick up to mine, and she allows herself a tiny smile. “Of course I know you love me.” She says, schooling her expression once again. I won’t bring it up- it being how limited my time really is. I insisted she wasn’t there when he told me it was temporary, and I won’t tell her.