If her tears could withstand the heat from her skin, they'd be dripping down her cheeks. Instead, she's steaming, eyes watery as her tears evaporate before they can shed.

Your hands are settled as close together as her overworked engine will allow. Your gazes locked, her burning ember eyes brimming with sorrow.

"Sorry, soldier..." she mumbles. There's a certain longing in her tone, one that shows just how much she misses physical intimacy. "Gods, I wish I could touch you."