'You know I'm in exile, don't you?' you say.
The Handmaid smokes her cigarette carelessly, ignoring you. You sigh. She gets every last bit of chemical out of the smoke before crushing it beneath her heel and finally looking at you, as if she didn't come up to you in the first place.
'Have time for fuck?' she says.
'I'm in exile. I have time for everything.'
'Good,' she says. 'Maybe not finish in small time this go.'
She steps past you and into your hive, confidently swaying her hips as she walks in the direction of the concupiscent platform. You follow her.
'I'm not some toy for you to use when you're bored,' you tell her.
'Yes,' she says.
'No, I'm not.'
'Yes. No argue, Darkleer. Want horn rubs then fuck nasty.'
She pats the platform next to her and you sigh before joining her.
'It's very lewd to solicit someone pale and pitch at the same time,' you tell her.
'Yes,' she says. 'We very lewd.'
She tilts her head towards you and you take the hint. You stroke down her horns gently and scritch at the bed. She starts purring immediately. She always does. It makes you worry that you're the only one who does this for her. Even though her blood is low, she's handsome and old and ridiculously pitiable. She should be able to find a consistent moirail, but instead she comes to you whenever she has a hankering to fill her quadrants.
'You pity me good,' she says. 'Should tell fishbitch let you free.'
'I deserve my exile,' you say.
'Deserve bullshit. Life bullshit. You kill me when fuck, yes?'
'You know I won't.'
She leans against you as you move to her other horn.
'Coward,' she says.
'Do you want me to do this properly or do you want me to halt to pail you?'
She quiets down except for the sound of her purring. You can't help but smile. You might wish she had better quadrants, especially as her visits are too rare for what she needs, but you selfishly wouldn't give this up for the world.