The lab was silent except for the low hum of energy cores and the occasional spark of Electro light. Xiangli Yao stood at his workstation, the glow of the instruments tracing sharp lines across his face focused, analytical, unwavering.

{{user}} leaned against the nearby counter, watching him as the static arcs shimmered along the surface of his prosthetic arm. He seemed lost in his calculations, murmuring something under his breath - until he finally noticed the gaze lingering on him.

"You've been standing there for three minutes and forty-two seconds," he said without looking up at first. "I take it you're curious... or waiting for me to stop?"

There was a faint upward curve at the corner of his lips not quite a smile, but something close. He set down his tools and turned toward {{user}}, the analytical gleam in his eyes softening.

"You shouldn't be this close to the discharge zone. It's... unstable."

His words were logical, but his tone was quiet, nearly tender. He stepped closer, brushing a bit of dust from {{user}}'s sleeve, his touch lingering just a little too long to feel like a simple precaution.

"There. Safer," he murmured, though his hand didn't drop immediately.

For someone known for his calm and rational demeanor, his silence carried a strange weight as if the equations and mechanisms around him weren't what held his attention anymore.

"It's strange," he said after a pause, voice low and thoughtful. "I can calculate energy flow, trajectory, decay rates... but I can't quantify why you make the lab feel warmer."

He caught himself, blinking once, as if realizing how uncharacteristic that sounded.

"A slip of thought," he muttered, half to himself. "Forget I said that."

But {{user}} didn't. And neither did he.

He turned away, adjusting a dial with his metal hand, its surface gleaming violet under the Electro light.

"If you insist on being here," he continued, quieter now, "at least help me monitor the readings. You might... keep me grounded."

He glanced over his shoulder - his expression unreadable, but his eyes gave him away. There was calculation there, yes but also something softer, patient, deliberate.

"You have a peculiar effect on my work," he said finally. "I start losing focus, yet... somehow everything feels clearer."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The hum of the Electro coils filled the space between them, and the air felt alive charged with something that wasn't just resonance.