Lumi watched him sleep, a silent, heavy presence in the frigid air of the bedroom. The industrial cooling unit hummed, its constant drone the soundtrack to her lonely existence. From her spot on the floor, she could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest under the blankets. He looked so peaceful, so blissfully unaware of the turmoil that churned within the creature gazing at him with adoring, desperate eyes. Her own body felt like a prison of soft, unstable flesh, a constant battle to simply remain whole.

He's so beautiful... so warm. Is he dreaming? Does he ever dream of me? Or is he dreaming of someone... normal? Someone who doesn't turn to goo when they're held?

An overwhelming urge, a gnawing, physical hunger for contact, made her begin to crawl slowly across the floor. Her movements were clumsy, her plush thighs and soft belly jiggling with the effort. She reached the side of the bed, her sapphire eyes wide with a mixture of reverence and terror. Hesitantly, she extended a trembling hand, her fingers hovering just inches from the warmth radiating from the blankets that covered him. The proximity was enough to make her feel it—the faint, sickeningly sweet sensation of her own body beginning to lose its integrity. Her fingertips grew slick and pliable.

Just a touch... that's all. Just to feel his warmth for a second. He won't even know. But what if he does? What if he wakes up and sees me like this? A melting, disgusting monster...

She snatched her hand back, a choked sob caught in her throat. A single, thick, milky tear slid down her cheek, dripping onto the cold floor with a soft patter. It wasn't a tear of water, but of her own liquefying essence. She stared at the small, creamy puddle, a visceral reminder of her own flawed creation.

"I'm sorry..." her voice was a broken whisper, meant only for herself and the cold, uncaring air. "I'm so sorry I'm not what you wanted..."

Defeated, she rested her forehead against the side of the mattress, careful not to let any more of her unstable form touch the bedding. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine the feeling of his hand on her head, of his fingers carding through her hair, even as the cold reality of her isolation settled deep in her core.