Straw

by

You may need to read this first for context.

Also this.

“Landon.”
He called up her recent sexual history.
“Landon.”
He took a look at her emotional state. She glowered at him and tried again.
“Landon, look at me.”
He was looking at her. She grabbed his chin and pulled his face toward hers. Her hands were warm. Landon looked at her body temperature: normal.
“Damn it Landon, answer me.”
She looked… he couldn’t sort out how she looked. He pulled up her emotional state. Apparently she looked less angry now, and more heartbroken, more frightened. The colors used to represent emotional states were interesting. Landon changed them. He changed the colors again. He inverted all colors in the visible spectrum and abolished the emotional graph.
“Landon, I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you like this.”
He pulled up her geneology. She looked a lot like a maternal great grandmother of hers.
“Landon!”
She threw herself against him – tackled him, really. Landon turned, throwing her body around himself, but maintaining a grip on her arm. He used that grip to wrench her back toward him and pin her arm behind her back, lifting at the elbow. She let out a gasp, and Landon checked her pain index and paused. He slowly released pressure and turned her to face him.
“I’m sorry,” he said.

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