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“You gained a soul, Sonia. Your diagnostics can’t check for it, so they come back clean. It would explain why you can’t turn off your emotions. You may be mechanical, but you’re also alive. Now you’re a ghost driving a meat-covered skeleton made of stardust. Um… except for the meat part.”“But… how did I get one?” Sonia shook her head. “Your father exchanges them, but I didn’t enter his Mens Mundi, and I didn’t have anything to exchange with you.”“That just means I gave you a portion of mine, and it grew to be your own over the last two weeks,” Shelly replied, starting to feel sick. “That might also explain why you’re focused on me. It was my soul, so you gravitated to me. You don’t really love me. Your soul just feels the connection to mine.”“No,” Sonia stated almost immediately. “I’ve run everything you’ve said against every argument I have. With all the information you’ve given me, I have to admit the possibility I have a soul now, but your assessment of why I feel for you is. Once the sound of steps stopped, he half-expected whoever was outside to have a talk, perhaps a routine check. He heard nothing of the sort, but instead the sound of heavy metal locks clanging and bars lifting could be heard. Soon the door opened and light shone through brilliantly. The sudden contrast made Ethan flinch away.He then blinked furiously for a while before taking a look at the door with some reticence. A shapely shadow obscured some of the light. When he looked up, he saw Nicole holding a key-chain. She then pushed the door wide open to reveal the form of the guard, an Igbo by the looks of him.What had at first looked like a bath of shiny and brilliant light revealed itself to be nothing more than a sickly yellowish light bulb. Nicole simply nodded and the guard stood behind her holding his rifle with both hands, the butt of the stock extended, ready to smash a couple of bones if the need arose. They were indeed handling him very carefully, even though he had no great.
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.You cannot live your life looking for your matches with a checklist, but she ticked a lot of boxes for him. On a superficial level at least, he’d been won over. She wore a loose fitting navy blue hoodie with a pair of black leggings. She didn’t care about impressing, she cares about comfort. Although her clothes didn’t throw her figure out there, what was clear is that she had a good one. A curvaceous one. Her hair, short and blonde, sat perfectly even as she rushed around making sure things were in order. And although, the work she appeared to be doing appeared exasperating; managing a busy restaurant on a late Friday afternoon, she floated around the room picking up plates, pouring glasses of wine, serving with a smile, like an angel. Her skin was pale and clear, but with the blonde, it worked. Despite her pale skin, she exuded a warmth that drew you to her, that made you want to know her... really know her... intimately. Jerome’s thoughts became intrusive. He began undressing her.

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