As Oenone knelt down, she could hear the chatter of distant and angry thoughts, like being in a room full of angry ghosts. He was broadcasting hard, and even a complete oldtype like her could pick some of it up.

Oh Kamille...

But what could she do for him? He wasn't a Stalker, who she could just slot the correct replacement parts into.

She decided to, for once, turn her analytical approach off. She'd never given herself the luxury of acting on her emotions before. It had always been too dangerous. But now it wasn't a luxury, but a necessity. Trying desperately not to think, she closed her eyes, determined to do whatever it is her heart told her was a good idea.

And leaned forward and kissed him, a little clumsily.

Damnit, heart.