You and I sit across from each other, with space, objects and silence separating us. Both programmed to not acknowledge the obvious, the glaring, the unhidden. I stare at the flame between us. I see your face within the flame. You look up and say "If I could transfer my feelings to you right now, you will probably go numb with shock or scream out loud." You continue "If I close my eyes, I feel as if an awful lot of water would come out from my eyes, as much as a river". I ask "Why." "Just".
If I could transfer my feelings to you right now, I think, you will feel yearning. Deep, deep, deep yearning. Wonder. Amazement. Happiness. Serenity. Anticipation. Yearning. Programmed to deny these feelings in inter-species since I'm a soldier, and you're a utility, we sit in silence, utterly entranced. Utterly comfortable. Although I can't touch you, you're in every bite of my system. In my head, I touch you, hug you all the time. To let you know I'm here, I'm alive, and that I'm with you. That I love you. Despite all the programming.