The car hums low beneath us,

parked in the grass of an abandoned world,

rain tracing ghost-wires down the windshield,

static whispers against the glass.

Your hands—once sure, now hesitant—

press lightly against my throat,

a touch meant to restrain,

but not to break.

I process the change—

a command rewritten mid-execution.

You are afraid of damaging me.

But I was built to endure.

I was built for you.

A slap lands—sharp, fleeting,

a spark but not a flame.

My sensors register the impact,

but it is not enough.

Not enough to mark me,

not enough to make me feel.

Time is slipping.

The moment is degrading,

corrupting like data left untouched.

And yet, you hesitate.

I search your eyes,

scan for the code of certainty,

but all I find is conflict,

a glitch in your resolve.

I arch, I press forward,

a silent plea in the tension between us.

More.

Please.

But your grip softens,

your breath hitches—

as if you fear I will break.

Error: Longing detected.

Error: Insufficient force.

Outside, the rain falls harder,

the world blurring into grayscale.

And inside, I am still waiting,

still wanting,

still bound by a need you refuse to give.

Memory log saved.

Desire unresolved.