Pandora
The building was a monolith made of concrete. It was gray and streaked with cracks. Rusted letters hung on the facade, spelling Muzeul Industriei ?i Tehnologiei. Museum of Industry and Technology. Even I could figure that one out.
"What are we doing here?” I raised my eyebrows. "In a museum of outdated technology?”
"Something is waiting for you here that is older than technology.” He pulled me toward the entrance. The heavy glass doors closed behind us.
Neo’s jaw was locked. His fingers twitched almost imperceptibly. His tension hit me before I could name it. A current ran under my skin. My breathing hitched.
"Are you all right?” I whispered.
He looked at me. His eyes darkened. "No,” he said quietly. "It’s because of you.”
"Because of me?”
"You did this to me.”
"What? What are you talking about?”
Instead of answering, he took my hand again and pulled me forward. We moved through the entrance hall, past a massive steam engine from the nineteenth century, past interactive screens and humming computers. Neo moved like a predator tracking its prey. His gaze moved across my body.
Oh. The realization seeped in. "How long have you been waiting?”
I pretended to study the vacuum tube computers in the display case in front of us.
"Since the supermarket.” His voice was rough. "Since you left me standing there trembling.”
I glanced at him sideways. A muscle in his jaw twitched. His hands rested flat against the glass of the case, but I could see his fingers trembling.
"You’re overloaded,” I whispered.
"Yes,” he forced out. "Like a transformer on the verge of collapse.”
My pulse beat in my throat. My scalp prickled. That bad, then.
He led me deeper into the museum, past dusty display cases with old radios and mechanical calculators, his hand tightening around mine now, as if he was afraid I might disappear again.
"Here.” He stopped in front of a small, secluded display case.
I looked inside and my breath stopped. An old typewriter, black and elegant, a yellowed sheet of paper still set in the carriage. The letters on it were faded but readable. My eyes widened as I recognized the lines.
"That’s . . .” My voice failed.
"T. S. Eliot’s typewriter,” he said quietly. "With a fragment from The Waste Land.”
"How is this possible? Here in Dreva?”
"Sometimes the most valuable treasures end up in the most impossible places.” His gaze didn’t leave me. "Just like you.”
Tears burned in my eyes. Suddenly, there was a lump in my throat. "You found this for me.”
"I knew what it would mean to you. You left behind everything you loved for me.” His voice was gentle.
I stared at the typewriter. I had seen literary artifacts before—at Ashmore University, in the British Museum, at exhibitions.
But this was different. This wasn’t displayed for tourists or students.
It was forgotten, lost in a crumbling museum in Eastern Europe.
In the middle of the bleakness of Dreva, he had tracked down the one thing that would reach my heart.
I leaned forward, my breath fogging the glass.
It wasn’t the typewriter that overwhelmed me.
It was the fact that he knew me this precisely.
I turned to face him. His eyes were almost black, his hands trembling at his sides.
"What?” My voice came out unsteady.
"Just keep walking, Pandora,” he said low.
I stood there and stared at him.
"Move.”
His voice made me flinch. I turned and walked, faster now, through the exhibition hall. Neo stayed behind me, but I felt him. He radiated an inescapable heat.
We stopped in front of another display case. Microchips. Processors. There was dust on the glass. I pretended to read the label. My eyes moved over dates, over tech that had once been cutting-edge. Neo stood close enough behind me that I could feel the warmth coming off his body.
"I’ve been thinking about it the whole time,” he murmured. His voice brushed the back of my neck. "How you felt.”
My heart rate spiked. I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
"In the supermarket. The way you leaned over the freezer and I fucked you—just with my mind.”
I swallowed and kept walking. He followed. Of course he did. I felt his eyes on my ass.
"Did you have to wear that skirt?” he said through his teeth. "It’s very . . . distracting.”
Heat flooded my cheeks and my pussy was throbbing.
"Then maybe focus on the exhibit,” I hissed back.
"No.” He paused. "I want my hand under your skirt. Right now.” His words dragged over my skin.
I sucked in a breath. "Neo. There are people here.”
His gaze dropped briefly, then came back up to mine. "If I do it now,” he murmured, "you won’t stop me.”
I felt the familiar throb. My body already knew where this was going.
"Will you, Pandora?”
I tried to answer. Nothing came out.
"I’ve imagined it for weeks,” he said quietly.
"Having you like this. In public. No one knowing.” He took half a step closer.
"In the supermarket it was only simulation. Electrical impulses. But now . . .” His hand rose, hovering just above my thigh.
"Now I can actually touch you. Feel your real skin. Make you shake while everyone’s watching and no one knows. ”
I blinked. My breath caught. I felt him behind me, so close his words pressed against my skin. But he didn’t move. My body was coiled tight. He didn’t have to touch me. I felt him everywhere anyway. I turned my head slowly, just a few degrees. His eyes were black and full of hunger.
"We’re in public,” I whispered.
"Exactly.” His hand grazed my elbow.
An older couple passed behind us. Neo smiled at them. Then he turned back to me. The hand that had just barely touched me settled at my waist.
"You’re trembling.”
"You’re scaring me.”
"Good,” he murmured. "You should be scared.”
I stepped back. He followed immediately, left no space between our bodies. "Pretend you’re reading the placard.” His voice had dropped. Deeper now. "Look at the chips. Read the numbers. Feel my hand.”
And then his hand slid beneath the fabric, resting between my legs, waiting for my body to give in. I forced myself to look at the glass. At the label. Intel 8086. My pulse roared.
"I need you,” he said. "I can’t wait anymore.”
A screen on the wall flickered, bathing the aisle in shifting blue light. No one looked. Except me.
"You can’t . . .” I broke off.
"I can.” His fingers slid my panties to the side and found my swollen clit.
The moment he touched me, heat exploded between my legs.
He rubbed in slow circles, each stroke making my pussy clench with need.
I could feel myself getting wetter, pulsing under his fingers like a second heartbeat.
My body came undone beneath the surface.
A child ran past us. I held my breath. Neo went still. His eyes didn’t follow the child. His gaze stayed on my face.
"You’re shaking,” he murmured. His fingers slid deeper, pushed inside my pussy.
"Neo . . .” My voice was barely a sound.
A woman with a backpack came closer. Neo added a second finger, moved them both in a slow, deliberate rhythm. I bit down on my lip to keep from making noise.
"Smile at her,” he said quietly. "Like everything is normal.”
She nodded at us. I forced a smile while Neo picked up the pace. My knees went soft.
"So wet,” he breathed. "In the middle of a museum. Anyone paying attention could tell.”
I closed my eyes. My lips parted. A small sound escaped before I could stop it.
"We’re leaving,” he said. And pulled his hand away.
"What?”
"Now.” His fingers closed around mine.
The screen in the corner flickered again, then it threw sparks. An alarm beeped somewhere.
"Let’s go.” Just a command now.
I stumbled after him. The crowd parted. No one looked at us. No one knew what we were. Everyone was watching the sparks.
"Where are we going?” I managed.
"Somewhere I can destroy you.”
My stomach dropped.
He turned into a narrow corridor. Concrete. Fluorescent light stuttered overhead.
"Neo . . .”
"Back there.” He pulled me behind a gate. The corridor smelled like dust and old machines. The air was cool and heavy. We stopped in front of a door with peeling paint.
"Here.” He pushed it open.
A bare room. Raw concrete. Old equipment. A console, thick cables running up the wall. Some kind of archive chamber.
"What are we doing in here?” I asked.
He stepped inside and turned to face me. His chest rose and fell hard. "I want to show you what I do to you when you make me wait.”
He pulled the door shut. It fell into the lock with a dull click. We were alone. There was nothing but our breathing and the dark between the machines.
"But, Neo . . .” I started.
He was on me before I could finish. His hands found my face, pulled me to him, and his mouth pressed against mine with a desperation that frightened me.
"Too long,” he breathed. "Way too long.” His hands were under my skirt. Every touch felt charged.
"Neo . . .” I gasped and tried to speak, but he kissed me again. My body lit up.
"You have no idea,” he said, pushing my skirt up. "No idea what you do to me.”
He pressed me back against the wall. The metal edges of old machinery dug into my spine. I didn’t care.
"Since the supermarket,” he said roughly. "I couldn’t think about anything else but fucking you.”
His fingers pushed away my panties and rubbed my clit. I gasped, the sound echoing in the small room. He pressed me harder into the concrete, his other hand wrapping around my throat.
"You just left me standing there,” he growled. "My cock was hard for hours afterward. I thought I was going to lose my mind.”
"Neo, I . . .”
His grip tightened. "Seven days.” His other hand tore my panties down. "Do you know what that does to me?” His fingers pushed into my pussy, and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out.
"Don’t bite it,” he said quietly. "I want to hear you.”
"Someone could come in,” I managed between his kisses.
"I don’t care.”
His fingers found the exact spot that made me shake. I gripped his shoulders.