ceylon. I sip from each cup. Strong and fragrant, richly flavored, each full of bitter complexity. “I’m surprised you brought me such sober things, not cocktails.” “I considered that but I got distracted when I found coconut rum in your suite’s sideboard.” She wrinkles her nose. “I thought of throwing it out, but on the off chance that you might enjoy such a freakish and unlovely concoction . . . ” The idea an AI would have such specific dislikes amuses me. “And here I thought I was going to have you lap it up from between my thighs.” Half-teasing.
