It is 1:56am. Mira has not showered, brushed her teeth, taken her estradiol, changed for bed, or turned off the lights. She hasn't even locked the door. Instead she sits on Rosie's nightstand, sharing the space with three glasses of water at various levels of completion, some scattered mail and recipts, a digital clock, and a lamp. She doesn't have to sleep, though she wishes she could. Life altering decisions, she has found, are worth sleeping on when that luxury allows. 

Instead, she sits and watches Rosie rise and fall with the heavy breaths of sleep. Despite her putting Mira in this situation, transgressing her boundaries and disrupting her routine, Mira can't muster any anger towards Rosie. It has been so long since anyone took such a genuine interest in her. This was by design of course, not being noticed is always the safer option. Maybe thats just what she told herself to avoid the ordeal of making herself appear interesting.

Anyway, Rosie took interest in Mira and her work, enough to want a piece of it for herself. She really seems kind at heart, even if her judgement is somewhat lacking. Even Mira's own dysphoric inner monologue can't deny that Rosie has taken a real shine to her. How long could that relationship really last, though? No one could know what they were getting into at first glance. Mira has too many secrets, too many things she has never told a soul. It would be irresponsible to thrust herself upon anyone, no matter how willing they may seem.

Doesn't it just get so lonely?

Mira curls in her knees and hugs them to her chest. They are cold, lifeless. Just an empty husk trying to convince itself of its humanity. To be so alone right next to someone who feels so real is unbearable. If Rosie woke up to find Mira cradled in her arms, would she think she had put her there herself? Is that selfish, manipulative, hopelessly desperate? Mira wonders all this as she finds her bearings on the soft mattress below her feet. She gazes up at the wall of Rosie's back, her hair falling across the pillow. 

The questions grow quieter as she works her way towards the pillow, replaced by the pragmatic problem-solver. How do I get around her? Mira treads carefully, bracing herself against the headboard and praying she doesn't get any of Rosie's hair caught in her joints. She makes it across with barely a sigh out of Rosie to indicate a disruption. Mira waits, knowing that Rosie could open her eyes at any moment, then starts working her way down. She ducks under the blanket and finds Rosie's arms folded up to her chest. Mira feels a pang in her heart, the intense desire to be held flooding back to her. She moves quickly, knowing that now she just has to get over Rosie's arms. If she can do that and go limp again, she might not be caught in the act.

She leaps and dives through the gap between Rosie's forearn and the blanket, falling into a fast but comfortable landing against her chest. She stops and presses against Rosie's t-shirt. For a moment her fears are droned out by the reverberations of Rosie's heart. Mira can feel it coursing through her like her own blood.

Suddenly, Mira's world becomes less defined. Rosie turns over in a flurry of fabric. She lazily tosses the blanket off her chest and peers at Mira with the half-open eyes of sleep. 

"Climbing into bed with me...? Sure... I don't mind..."

Rosie runs her finger along Mira's back, holding her tight as her other hand reaches down under the covers.

"Oh Mira, how bold of you on our first date..." Rosie croons. Mira becomes acutely aware of her lack of lungs, her inability to hold or release breath. She wants to channel her anxiety somewhere, but to do so would be damning. She feels close to bursting. Rosie shifts with pleasure, looking straight at Mira with lips slightly parted. She pulls the doll close, places her lips around her face, glides her tongue gently across. Suction forms as Rosie kisses her, and Mira almost feels she will be pulled further in. 

Rosie releases her oral embrace and whispers, "I could use some help down there, love..." Mira is drawn down, down past the covers. She feels the heat, smells what is coming. She can't. It's too much. This isn't right.

Mira grasps firmly onto Rosie's hand. She kicks, would shout if she could. She watches Rosie's hand withdraw from her panties, both hands coming out into the open. Mira sees the hand across from her. It glistens slightly in the moonlight. Mira turns away as Rosie sets her on the bed and reaches over to turn on the light. She regards Mira with a squint. She reaches a finger out and Mira reaches back.

"AH!" Rosie yelps and pulls back. "What the fuck are you?" Mira moves her hands as if to speak, but cannot. She adjusts by simply looking down, putting both hands to her heart, and looking back up.

"Yourself? Like... is this remote controled or something? You have a camera in there?"

Mira shakes her head and repeats the gesture more emphatically. Rosie blushes deep and tucks her dirty hand behind her.

"I don't understand but... I should really bring you home, shouldn't I?" Mira nods, relieved. Rosie looks at the time. "I guess I wouldn't be able to sleep anyways."

---

Before she has adjusted to the form of her real body, before she can process words and even in the split second before she opens her eyes, Mira is hungry. She sits up, Rosie in her chair next to the bed wearing an expression appropriate for seeing an animate doll exchange its mobility to a human host. Patting Rosie on the shoulder and mumbling something about being right back, she pours a bowl of cereal and demolishes it. She then immediately grabs some sleepwear and goes to the bathroom to change, closing the door a little too hard. She dumps out two tiny blue pills and dry swallows them, pulls off her clothes. There is a knock at the door.

"Mira? Are you ok? I'm sorry I-"

"It's not your fault!" Mira says a little too loud, "I just need a moment."

She wets her toothbrush, making eye contact with herself in the mirror. She can't talk to Rosie yet, it's too much too fast. She doesnt usually have to talk to people like this. Rosie says something and for a second Mira doesn't process it. She thinks she can guess what it was though.

"Yes, of course-"

Rosie swings open the door. Mira is wearing nothing but her boxers, toothbrush hanging limp from her mouth. Rosie stands frozen in motion, her hand still on the doorknob. She hadn't asked if Mira was ok, she asked if she could come in.

-I'm fine..." Mira finishes lamely.