She still didn't reject his contact with her, and he stepped in subtly closer to her, drawing her face towards his own with his metal fingers hooked under her jaw. He tuned out the idea of observation as his flesh hand rose to settle on the side of her hip, controlling some of her movements in the process but also to feel her body shifting. "What about your point of view? Do you accept how things are going, accept the orders you are given?"

He frowned at the idea that things were impossible, but he had always been told that change was always possible, that his hand on the trigger made the impossible possible again. It was why he was so necessary to the grinding of the gears of the machine that he laboured under. "How are you the enemy? I have no enemies; I go where I'm told to go and do what I'm told to do." A weapon didn't have enemies any more than a gun did.

Still, the topic of conversation seemed heavy, felt like it wasn't supposed to be going this way. He stepped in, brushing his body against her own and leaned in to kiss her again.