I moved to push my desk against the wall. The wooden legs scraped against the floor. Made Emi wince slightly.
She hurried to help. Set her datapad down on the futon. Grabbed the other end of the desk.
Our fingers brushed as we adjusted the furniture. Her hands were smaller than mine. Warm. Each contact sent a small jolt through my skin.
Together we shifted the futon. Moved the small bookshelf. Cleared a space in the center of the room.
By the time we finished, a thin sheen of sweat glistened on Emi's forehead. Her breathing had quickened. She pushed a strand of blue hair away from her face. Tucked it behind her ear. Small smile.
"Alright," I said. Stood in the center of the cleared space. "Let's start with the basics. No fancy moves. No complicated techniques. Just foundation."
She nodded eagerly. Stepped forward into the makeshift training area. Her enthusiasm was almost painfully genuine. Completely devoid of the cynicism that colored every interaction in my world.
