The streets of Loguetown bustled with late afternoon energy. Sunlight bounced off brass fixtures and polished shop signs as Ethan wandered hand in hand with 2B, whose gaze never ceased darting from one unfamiliar curiosity to the next. Her porcelain-like face bore a faint flush, as if still affected by their earlier... experimentation with the concept of pleasure.
They passed a small boutique tucked between a watchmaker and a tobacconist. Its sign read only: "Delicate Curiosities."
A subtle jingle announced their entry.
Inside, soft velvet curtains divided alcoves, and delicate glass cases displayed an assortment of elegantly crafted items — feathers, oils, silken bindings, and sculptures that made even Ethan raise an eyebrow. The shop exuded an air of discretion and invitation, as if every object had a secret and was waiting to be discovered.
2B tilted her head, fascinated. "What is this place?"
Ethan hesitated. "It's... a store for adults. The kind of place where people come to explore... intimacy."
She blinked, then nodded as if filing the term under a new category in her internal database. Without embarrassment, she walked to a display case and picked up a small, metallic ring adorned with tiny embedded gemstones.
"This looks inefficient as a weapon."
Ethan laughed softly. "It's not a weapon."
2B turned to him, eyes shining with curiosity. "Then what does it do?"
Rather than explain, he reached for her hand, gently setting the object down. "I think some things are better learned through experience than theory."
From behind the counter, the shopkeeper a woman with sharp eyes and an unreadable smile watched them like a cat observing a pair of unsuspecting mice. But when Ethan met her gaze, she only gave a subtle nod and returned to her ledger.
They didn't buy anything. They didn't need to.
The tension between them — that fragile, burning line between innocence and desire — was far more electrifying than any trinket on the shelves.
Outside again, the sky had begun to turn violet.
2B reached for his arm. "I think I like these human things. The awkwardness. The uncertainty. The way it makes my processors... pause."
Ethan chuckled. "That's called being flustered."
"Hmm," she said, thoughtful. "I don't dislike it."
They walked on, side by side, beneath the dying light — each step laced with unspoken promises and quiet discoveries still to come.
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