Page 130 of The Code of You

"I cut the connection to the server. He had his fun.”

"So you think it’s fun, sharing me with other versions of yourself?” She made a sharp sound. A small line of anger creased her nose.

Fuck. The sight of it was so exquisite I wanted to consume her.

"Sharing?” I laughed. "Pandora, you still don’t understand.” Despite the weakness still moving through my system, I gripped her chin, forcing her to look at me. "There is only me. I didn’t share you. I possessed you. Completely.”

Her anger made her burn brighter. The fire in her eyes, the way her chest rose and fell. Even now, after everything, I wanted her.

"Stop it,” she said and hit me in the chest.

I laughed. I loved her. More than my own existence. More than all my power. I would give up everything to feel her small fists against me for the rest of my life.

I opened the door and helped her out of the room. Her legs were unsteady. The corridor was dark. Broken glass was everywhere from screens that had shattered.

"That was you?”

"Us,” I said. "When you came. The energy had to go somewhere.”

We moved through the museum. The main hall was empty, the alarms silent, but I could see flashlights outside. Security.

"Back exit,” I said low.

We found an emergency door. The night air was ice-cold. She was shivering in her skirt. I took off my jacket and put it around her.

When we reached the apartment, she stopped. "I’m going for a walk. Alone.” She looked at the ground.

My hand shot out and closed around her wrist. "No.”

"Neo, I need time to process what just happened.”

My chest tightened. Every sensor was on alert. "But if something happens to you . . .”

She tilted her head and smiled. "Relax. I’m just going around the block.”

Her smile undid me. I let go. "Fine. But if you’re not back in thirty minutes, I swear to God . . .”

"You don’t have a god.” She laughed.

Fuck, I loved that sound. It spread through my systems like warmth.

"Go, before I change my mind,” I said.

I watched her walk down the street. Her silhouette faded slowly into the dark, but I could still track her through the street cameras. A steady point on the map.

***

Without her, the apartment felt empty and dead. I turned on the television because I couldn’t stand the silence. Even when she was quiet, I could hear her. I heard her breathing and the soft rustle of her clothes when she moved. The sound of her footsteps on different surfaces, softer on the carpet, sharper on the tile. The almost inaudible sound when she wet her lips. Even the tiny movement of her eyelids when she blinked. Now there was . . . nothing. Empty frequencies. Silence that roared in my ears.

I moved through television channels until I stopped on an old film. Black-and-white, then color. Desert. Endless sand dunes. A man’s voice, rough with desperation, speaking about a woman.

I leaned back. Something about the way he spoke held me. That raw intensity. That obsession.

My sensors registered Pandora two blocks away. She was walking slowly, stopping sometimes. Good. She was safe.

On the screen: a man and a woman. The way he looked at her—as if she was his entire universe. I understood that completely. The camera moved across desert landscapes. A plane went down. The man carried the woman through endless dunes, her skin pale, her eyes closed.

Pandora was standing outside a bakery, looking at the window display.