All you saw was rain, at first. The steady downpour, hurling toward the eath like a thousand tiny rams battering the streets bathed in a halogen glow. Smiling faces, glittering above through the droplets, selling a thousand things in a dozen tongues, as traffic splashes its way through the streets beside you and purred through the air above. The muck of a world made too comfortable, too corporate- a world where adventure was a faded dream and kindness further still. The synths with their eerily perfect smiles and violet eyes, the shuttered glow of efficiency apartments lit only by the dim gleam of a headset transporting its user to another world. Layered with advertisements, of course, with the basest sort of appeal. Who wouldn't want to escape into a world of lusty hobbit maidens and the roar of dragons overhead, after a long day in the processing centers at the heart of the electric state?

Not you, words still dripping from your fingertips with the memory of paper when you ventured out into the world. By now, the curious stares at the back of your neck, unstained with a gold-ringed port and undyed with the shifting hues of smart ink underneath the skin, are almost comforting, and the dull thrumming of the subway is a pleasant reminder that there's still a place that escapes the neon eyes of what the world's become.

And I loved that about you, when I breezed into your life. I was everything you hated- wide-eyed with wonder at the beauty- if you could call it that- of the world out there, the sheer crazy elegance of a place where the elevators climbed to the stars and a world of color and sound could bloom into anything you could imagine, all in the comfort of your home. Anything, I'd said, almost tripping over my words as I talked about my job. No, my calling, designing all those other worlds to escape into, painting a galaxy of escapes to make dreams better. There were mysteries out there, underneath the twinkling signs and artificial stars, I'd whispered, extending an arm to take in the sweep of the urban sprawl, and my eyes had glittered like starlight.

I'd wormed my way in, of course, in shy smiles and quick, furtive squeezes of your hand when we strolled between the neon canyons on the rare clear night. The way my voice dropped into that almost-forgotten tinge of a Southern drawl when I rambled on about the latest experience I was making, or the collection of mercifully chipless stuffed toys on my dresser. That first night, you'd seen them, like a relic of a past world, just before I'd descended with smiles and heat and that wonderful, awfully enticing thrust of heat and strength and sweat and all those things that made us human.

You'd resisted, of course, at first- but after all, two places took more effort, and your little trees could grow in the sunlight on the forty-second story, and the little synth-monkey, with his cheery smile and plush little paws, was kind of cute to have around, even when he got mischievous.

Slowly, your life became ours, a companionable mix of those heated nights and calm, cool mornings in the breeze, tangled together. The occasional argument, sure, your passion for green and warmth and splendor coming up hard against my childlike enthusiasm for making a happier world. A few jabs amid the hugs and the late-night fucks, the trip to see the old museums and that bashful proposal on New Year's Eve. A good life.

A perfect one, really, for the sort of person who craves a bit of wildness with their velvet romance, a guaranteed sweetness in a budding life with someone who treasures the way it was. Perfect for someone like me.

Good, I decide, and close the file, your world blinking dark, into a frozen scatter of electrons. People will really like this one on the new sets, I think.