Casual Affair

Clack clack clack clack…

The garage was quiet at this hour. Cool, dim, tucked into the far corner of the hub where few ever wandered without reason.

Coral Glasses sat hunched over her desk, a small lamp casting a cone of light onto the stack of papers beside her and the blinking cursor on her laptop. She rubbed her temples, then resumed typing, fingers tapping methodically.

"LOG: Personnel Evaluation. Subject: Froggy. Adaptive, communicative, slightly too casual with authority figures. Potential leadership material with proper reinforcement. Recommend continued task delegation."

She hit return. A breath. Then, another line.

"Subject: ENA."

Her fingers hovered. The cursor blinked. Once. Twice. She started to type, paused, then deleted the words. She tried again.

"Subject: ENA. Unpredictable. Multifaceted. Emotionally erratic."

She sat back in her chair, her hand lingering near the delete key. Her eyes trailed to the word count at the bottom left of the screen. She sighed.

"Subject..."

No. She backspaced the whole line. Coral Glasses rested her chin in her palm and stared at the screen, unfocused while orange rings spread through her glasses’ roots.

ENA. What was she supposed to write about someone like ENA?

Engrossed in her doubts, she chewed the edge of her pen.

God, the way ENA walked, and moved. Like her limbs didn’t follow the same rules. The way her voices switched between emotions, glitching out. Like she was barely stitched to the already very vague reality of this place, and yet more present than anyone else.

"Ugh…" Coral Glasses muttered, slamming the pen down. She looked over her shoulder, like someone might have crept in and heard her thoughts. No one. Just the hum of overhead lights.

She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed with frustrated muttering. "If anyone heard me rambling like this, they'd think I'm some freak. Mooning over a glitching weirdo like her."

She swallowed hard. Her throat was tight. "It’s not normal," she muttered. "She isn’t normal."

But then again…who was normal in this place anyway? This realization did not help her current situation.

Her trembling fingers hovered over the keyboard again, as if trying to will herself to type something professional. Something detached. But nothing came. Only the heat rising in her face, and the churn of confusion in her stomach.

She closed her eyes. Tried to breathe…it was useless. The log. Right. Her fingers returned to the keys.

"Subject: ENA." A long sigh…and then more clicking. "Evaluation to be continued at a later date."

She saved the log, shut the laptop, and buried her face in her hands with a muffled groan. The air felt heavier now. She stayed that way for a long time before flicking off the light and slipping out into the darkened hall, her footsteps quiet but hurried. She lit herself a cigarette to lay off the stress.

ENA…What was it about her? What was it that made Coral Glasses feel so utterly thrown? Maybe it was just the lack of words; there weren’t enough to describe that bizarre patchwork of polygons. ENA made no sense, not logically, not emotionally. Why was she even part of the team?! What did she offer, besides…

...besides...

“Grrhh…!” Coral Glasses groaned, raking her fingers through her hair until it crinkled. She threw her half-finished cigarette to the ground, snuffing it shut with a stomp of her heel, storming over to her chair and letting her head drop onto the desk with a dull thud, half-hoping she’d knock herself out. But, much like this entire evening, she had no luck.

Still, laying there, she figured...maybe sleep wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

Another day passed, and much like yesterday, Coral Glasses sat hunched at her workbench once more, fingers tapping at the keys as she added updates to her log. The garage office buzzed faintly with fluorescent light, half of it flickering like it couldn’t make up its mind whether to die or stay alive another day. Her coffee had long gone cold, rim stained with signs of previous sips.

She paused mid-sentence, eyes drifting past the smeared screen toward the garage's open bay door. Outside, she spotted them: ENA and Froggy, chatting near one of the rusted delivery units. ENA gestured wildly, face flickering through emotional states decorating her speech.

Coral Glasses’s breath caught. God, why did she do that thing with her voice when she got excited? Or the way she smiled so confidently, how she carried herself like nothing could ever touch her… Coral Glasses stared, her hands clenched in her lap. “Just stop it,” she muttered to herself, cheeks burning. She slammed the laptop shut harder than she meant to, the clack echoing in the enclosed space.

“Get it together.” But her brain wouldn’t stop. It kept pulling her into stupid hypotheticals—What if ENA touched her hand by accident? What if she meant to? What if she actually wanted to—

“Hey,” said a voice at the door, and Coral Glasses nearly jumped out of her chair, the roots of her frames mottled with jagged orange rings. Froggy was standing there now, peeking inside. “You alright?”

“Wh-Yeah! Yeah, I-I'm fine!” she said way too fast. Her tone was fake. “Just busy.” Froggy stepped in, brow raised. “Didn’t sound like it. You looked kind of...spaced out back there. I just needed to ask about the boss, but...” He paused. “Is there something on your mind?”

Coral opened her mouth to lie—but something broke. The words came out half-shoved, too fast. “It's ENA. I can't stop thinking about her. And not just, like, ‘team dynamic’ thinking, I mean... the weird kind. The kind that makes me feel like I'm gonna implode.”

Froggy's eyes widened a little, but he didn’t recoil. “You’ve got a crush?”

“Wha— No!” she blurted out, then caught herself. “I mean…maybe? I-I don’t know. I don’t think it’s even a-allowed. And even if it were, can you imagine how people would react? I’d be the freak who’s into the—whatever-the-hell ENA even is.”

Froggy shrugged. “I mean, you’re not hurting anybody. I’d say you should talk to her.”

“I can’t,” Coral Glasses hissed. “She’d be weird about it. Or worse—tell someone. I’d lose everything.”

Froggy gave her a calm, unreadable look. “Or maybe she’d surprise you. You know ENA’s full of surprises.” He didn’t press. Just gave a small nod and left her with that thought, the door shutting quietly behind him.

That night, Coral Glasses sat alone under the sterile glow of her desk lamp, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. The fantasies came back—of closeness, of holding ENA's strange, glitchy hand, of hearing her voice soften instead of fracture. Then came the guilt. A deep, skin-crawling disgust.

“What the hell is wrong with me...” she whispered. So she worked. Kept typing, tinkering…but the thought of ENA kept resurfacing every time she’d try to put words on her log.

She wondered how it’d feel…How would it feel to be with someone like her? It’d be weird, sure, but how weird? She always wondered how her skin would feel to the touch… Her body…her red half soft and smooth…her limbs flowed almost in a graceful way, sugaring her offers and wares. They brought comfort and easiness, like she could just rest her head onto her shoulder and forget about this stupid job. …her other half, of a light cream color…Harsh angles, jutted polygons, almost crystalline in their sharpness. It should’ve been unsettling. It wasn’t. It mesmerized her. That jagged edge of ENA - sharp just like her personality…it drew her in. How would it feel to touch both sides at once…? One hand would sink in the softness of her red side, the other trailing over her fractured lines of pure geometry, tracing corners and facets like a map she was desperate to learn.

Coral Glasses caught herself mid-thought, suddenly aware of the growing heat between her legs. She had been absentmindedly pleasuring herself through all of these thoughts. She made sure to clean herself (with one of the documents she had on her desk…but it didn’t even matter at this point) before tucking herself back in her pants and zipping them back shut.

She buried her face in her hand. “What the hell’s wrong with me…” She mewled, putting her arms onto the desk and hiding her face in it. “I hate this…”

…She really hated all of this.

The morning didn’t feel like a reset. Coral Glasses sat stiffly at her desk, the corners of her documents dog-eared and wrinkled from the way she kept fiddling with them.

She hadn’t even written a signature yet. The pen tapped a syncopated rhythm against the bench, her mind elsewhere, as always now.

She hadn’t even looked out the garage door today. Couldn’t. Not with the weight of yesterday still knotted in her stomach.

This wasn’t just a distraction anymore. It was a mental, emotional crack in her. A fracture that let fantasy bleed into duty. She was in charge. She was supposed to be composed, analytical. Instead, she was dreaming about ENA’s strange, surreal form like some unhinged romantic.

She’d spent the night tangled in daydreams, thinking about spiky hands brushing against her face, soft voices shifting mid-sentence, glitchy laughter that sounded like music.

It was sick. It was obsessive. It was ruining her.

She slammed the pen down, hard enough that the plastic casing cracked.

That was it. No more waiting. If she didn’t say something, do something, she’d go mad — or worse, she'd end up saying something in the wrong moment, in the wrong tone, with someone else listening.

ENA had to know. For Coral Glasses's sanity, for the preservation of whatever fragile sense of order she had left.

She stood, almost robotic, and walked out of the garage. Her heart thudded in her ears, her legs moved with jerky purpose. The receptionist’s area shimmered faintly in the overhead lights, humming with slot machine ambience and ENA’s unmistakable voice — lilting, fractured, somewhere between a lullaby and static.

There she was. Playing with one of the broken machines, head tilted, fingers tapping rhythmically against the lever.

“ENA?” Coral Glasses called her name, and her voice cracked more than she wanted it to. ENA looked up, the red side of her face flickering. “Mmm? Is there anything I can accomplish for you? Perhaps a task? A request, maybe?”

“Could I…t-talk to you? Somewhere…q-quieter.”

ENA’s wide grin returned once more, her shapes twirling around their axis, just for the girl to respond with a thumbs up. “Most certainly!”

They walked together, not speaking, to one of the smaller maintenance storage rooms. Coral Glasses closed the garage door behind them with a heavy grunt and the hissing of metal as she lowered it down. ENA turned toward her, her red side unreadable aside from her usual smile.

Coral Glasses stared at the floor. Her palms were sweating. “I…I’ve been feeling something. About you. For a while,” she began. “It’s…distracting. And I know it’s probably wrong, but I need to get it out of my head, or I’ll– …I don’t know what I’ll do.”

ENA tilted her head. “What kind of feeling is bothering you today? Is it something a Genie can fix?”

Coral Glasses winced, the roots on her frames going jagged once more. “Attraction. Romantic. Maybe more. N-Not even I understand it fully. You’re…confusing. You're you. And I can’t stop thinking about you. How you look. How you sound. How you..e-exist.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then ENA’s eyes narrowed — her lighter side flashing bright and static-laced.

“I think,” she said, her voice flattening, her pupils as large as pinpricks. “It would be better if I left now.”

Coral Glasses nodded, heart sinking in utter defeat. “Right. Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to— I’m sorry.”

She slipped out before she could embarrass herself more, back to the garage, back to the half-written log. She collapsed into her chair, buried her face in her hands, and hated everything about herself once again. How else would it have gone anyway?! Froggy was right about ENA being unpredictable…

She’s just a freak…she’ll forget about her eventually.

Coral Glasses didn’t log anything the following day.

The laptop stayed closed shut, untouched. Her fingers hovered over it once or twice, but the act of writing felt pointless. What was she supposed to say now - “Recruits all accounted for. Secretary humiliated herself and wishes to evaporate.”?

Instead, she spent most of her day cleaning the garage…that didn’t need cleaning. Coral Glasses was always clean and tidy, she hated to leave even a speck of dust wherever she went.

Despite this, she wiped counters, tightened screws on equipment that already worked as intended, reorganizing her tools by shape, by frequency of use, by color. All the while, she tried to not let her embarrassment eat her alive from the inside out. Every now and then, she’d hear footsteps from outside and freeze, terrified it might be ENA. But it never was. It was either Froggy, or Dratula, or some other entity. Not a single knock, not a flicker of ENA’s voice. Nothing. That silence was making everything worse.

Coral Glasses kept replaying what happened in her head, an incessant drone. The way ENA looked at her, sharp and unreadable, the way she cut her off before she could finish explaining…her stern tone…it echoed in her mind like judgement handed down from some divine court. ENA hadn’t yelled, raised her voice, or ridiculed her. But her rejection was crystal clear. She kept asking herself why she said anything at all. She could’ve just kept her mouth shut. Could’ve just suffered in private, buried the feelings, distracted herself like a normal and professional person does. Now, she’d made ENA uncomfortable, and possibly soured any chance of working together normally again. And for what? A feeling that would inevitably pass.

Coral Glasses leaned against the wood of her workbench, hands trembling as she clutched her own wrists. She hated feeling this vulnerable. She wasn’t supposed to feel like this. But there was no going back now.

Late into the night, long after the other lights had dimmed and the humming of machines quieted, she lay on the ground of the garage. “Should’ve kept it to myself,” She whispered to herself. “Should’ve just let it be.” She didn’t sleep that night. Just drifted, in and out, with a low ache in her chest.

Coral Glasses hadn’t expected anyone. The garage was dim, save for the amber glow of her desk lamp and the occasional flicker from a faulty ceiling fixture. Her eyes were burning from the glow of a screen she hadn’t really been reading for the past hour. She was halfway through reclassifying a shipment when a knock- quick, clear -cut through the air.

She jolted upright. There was a pause. Another knock. Lighter this time. Hesitant?

“…Come in,” she called, her voice rasping from disuse. The door slid open with a sigh. Standing in its frame, unmistakable, was ENA. Coral Glasses’s whole body locked in place. She nearly dropped her laptop.

“Oh,” she said, or tried to- it came out more like a grunt. ENA stepped inside with an awkward grace, closing the door behind her. She looked…less animated than usual. No glitching expressions or strange phrases. Her two-toned face held one solid expression: unreadable, but calm…on the lighter side. Coral Glasses immediately stood. “Look, if this is about before, I–”

“It’s not,” ENA said sharply- not unkindly, but firm. She raised her hand. “I didn’t come here for an apology. I came here because I’ve been thinking.”

Coral Glasses blinked. “Thinking?”

ENA nodded. “About what you said. Attraction. Confusion. Wanting.” She tilted her head. “You said things I didn’t fully understand. But…I didn’t hate hearing them. I didn’t hate you for saying them.”

That knocked the air from Coral Glasses’s lungs. “You didn’t…?”

ENA walked further in, letting her eyes trace the cluttered workbench. “No. I was surprised. I still am. You made me think about what that kind of connection means. What it feels like.” She paused. “So I want to know more.”

“About me?”

“About what you felt.” ENA turned to her, the soft side of her face illuminated by the desk lamp, yet she kept her face to the sharper side. “You said attraction. You looked at me and…wanted something. Show me what you meant.”

Coral stared. “Wait—what do you mean, show you?”

“I’m not sure.” ENA’s body shifted, her hands on her hips. “Words don’t work for me the way they do for others. You seem better with feelings. So…help me understand.”

Coral Glasses hesitated. Her heart was thudding — loudly enough, she thought, that ENA could probably hear it.

“I…I’m not sure I can.”

“You don’t have to get it right,” ENA said gently, her face finally switching. “Just try.”

And in that dim garage, with the shadows softening the angles of her guilt, Coral Glasses finally exhaled.

Maybe this wouldn’t end in shame. Maybe this could still be something…good.

“...Okay. Okay.” Coral Glasses let out a final sigh, walking in front of the girl. “B-but…you’ve got to trust me.”

ENA nodded…but despite her nod, she lightly yelped when Coral Glasses put her hands on her shoulders. “Ah!-”

“I t-told you to trust me!” Coral Glasses repeated, looking away in embarrassment. “P-Please, ENA…”

ENA, unsure of what to do in this kind of situation, just responded with a small ‘okay’. She was so close now…Coral Glasses had her all to herself. But ENA did not know what she was feeling…so she felt like making the point a bit more clear.

She pulled ENA closer, wrapping her in a hug…one which ENA initially melted into, but would stiffen once Coral Glasses began putting her hands through her clothes, behind her back, on her chest…she could feel how it sent static-laced shivers down ENA's spine. Now, Coral Glasses did not know if this was from the touch…or from her sweaty palms.

“Do you…like it?” She asked, meekly.

“I…cannot say I don't.” Pretty vague response from the saleswoman. Though she mimicked Coral Glasses’ motions, her clawed hand passed below her clothes, on her bare skin. She didn't even have time to finish before Coral Glasses grabbed her shoulders and pinned her against the wall. She had no idea what she was doing. She was on autopilot at this point. If someone came around she'd be done for.

ENA's breath hitched, she felt her heart racing. She did not know why…but she wished for more.

She had never really wished for anything, aside from completing the tasks and jobs of the people who hired her to do so.

Coral Glasses didn’t say this was a ‘task’, or a ‘job’ or anything of the sorts. It was…something she’d like ENA to do with her. She gave Coral Glasses a look…it wasn’t angry, or confused, or scared…it was clear that she wanted to explore this feeling more.

Noticing that, Coral Glasses finally let herself go, pulling ENA in a kiss. Her breath hitched, she did not expect that…but she melted in the affection once more. She had no experience with kissing, so she let Coral Glasses do most of the work. While they kissed, Coral Glasses began stripping ENA of her garments. Her overalls were pushed off her shoulders, her jacket unbuttoned, all the while ENA gripped onto Coral Glasses tightly, the latter feeling her claws dig into her skin: but ENA was careful not to make her bleed.

On the other hand, Coral Glasses pulled away from the kiss. She smiled at ENA…and crouched down to her knees to slowly unbutton her shorts. She let them slide down ENA’s voluptuous legs to reveal her slick core.

“M-may I…?” Coral Glasses asked, with ENA promptly agreeing. The saleswoman’s breath hitched, feeling Coral Glasses waste no time and suddenly insert two fingers inside of her pussy. This feeling was so alien to ENA…but she found herself craving more with every movement of Coral Glasses’s hand.

Cravings…ENA’s never had any cravings. Coral Glasses made her feel that way…she was different from everyone else ENA’s ever encountered…and that’s saying a lot, in a world of strange entities and surreal landscapes. Her moans spiked up an octave when Coral Glasses curled her fingers inside her flesh, making it flutter against her fingers.

“A-ah…more, more…” ENA’s whispers were dripping with desire. Coral Glasses gladly obliged to her request, circling her clit with her other hand. But before ENA could finish her orgasm, Coral Glasses pulled her fingers out, sending shivers through her body.

ENA let out a groan of disappointment, her feminine side speaking up. “You could have let me have this.” She growled through her panting.

“Sorry, sorry…” Coral Glasses chuckled. “The good part comes now…” she didn’t give any other explanation, and simply turned ENA to face the wall. “A-are you ready…?”

ENA, already very much aroused at this point, gave her a labored nod. She watched from behind her shoulder, a hand over her naked folds while Coral Glasses unbuttoned her own zipper, letting her already really hard length hang out of her pants. ENA’s attention was soon after put back to the wall, her red leg raised under Coral Glasses’s arm.

ENA wasn’t sure of what was happening, but a sharp feeling between her legs made her face scrunch up in slight pain. Moans and grunts came out of her naturally, she didn’t even have to try. Rhythmically, in and out, the more Coral Glasses thrusted into her, the better it felt. She was actually enjoying this a lot.

“Ah, nnmnh…” ENA made sounds Coral Glasses didn’t even know she could make, but it made her even harder. Her lighter side’s claws scraped at the wall, leaving marks, a future reminder of their act. ENA felt every inch of Coral Glasses’ length, going in deep and almost out…only to then slam back inside her.

It was hard not to grab ENA’s hips and fuck her out of her senses. But ENA was losing herself in the feeling already, her mind pure static.

It was perfect…she was perfect.

Coral Glasses could feel ENA getting pushed more and more to the edge, the flesh of her insides surprisingly soft, even if its outside was geometrical and jagged.

Coral Glasses was half-expecting her dick to clip through…ENA’s sex wasn’t exactly similar to anyone else Coral Glasses had known, but…she could work with it. Despite this, both of their orgasms were building up quickly.

ENA threw her head back through her enjoyment, her cunt dripping with staticky juices. Her clawed hand scratched deeper into the wall as she neared her climax.

One final slam and Coral Glasses spilled her load inside ENA’s pussy, an audible groan of pleasure coming from the saleswoman while Coral Glasses’s head popped out of her, a mix of cum and static splurting out of ENA’s hole. All done and dealed with, the two were left to catch their mingling breaths, holding each other close.

“Was…was it good…?” Coral Glasses finally asked ENA, still embracing her body. Static fizzled in ripples through her, as if she was still getting shivers down her spine.

“Yes, it was…you were great.” Her salesperson side finally spoke back, abandoning herself into Coral Glasses’s arms, nuzzling her nose lovingly.

Tucking herself back in her pants, Coral Glasses sat down on her chair, with ENA sitting on her lap. They were both very tired…

“Say…would you like to do this again, another time?” Coral Glasses spoke to ENA in a soft tone, waiting for a response that did not come. “um…ENA…?”

ENA had dozed off, her head resting gently on Coral Glasses’s shoulder, arms tucked loosely against her chest. Her breathing was slow and even, clearly worn out from the intensity of the moment, of a new experience. The sight made Coral Glasses's chest swell with something tender.

Moving carefully, she slid her arms under ENA’s naked form and lifted her, cradling her weight as she stepped away to retrieve a clean jacket from a nearby closet. Returning quietly, she draped it over ENA's shoulders and settled back into her seat, letting the girl rest warmly against her. Coral Glasses couldn’t help falling asleep as well, ENA’s body heat aiding greatly in that…

The next morning, Coral Glasses awoke to the sound (and feeling) of ENA getting off of her.

She groaned, adjusting her frames while ENA slowly dressed back up, a last reminder of the previous night.

“Good morning, ENA…” Coral Glasses got up from her seat, embracing the girl and planting a kiss on her cheek.

A chuckle escaped ENA’s lips, leaving her to return the kiss. “Care for some breakfast?” “Oh yes. I’m quite famished.” Her salesman side chirped, fixing the hat on her head. “Some coffee with milk sounds great right about now, don’t you think?”

“It does, yes…” Coral Glasses couldn’t help but crack a smile at ENA’s words. Maybe she wasn’t as much of a freak as people made her out to be…though, exactly for that, this act will remained sealed on their lips, but will repeat in the future.

Now that her thoughts had finally found a direction, no longer just a whirlwind of doubt and longing, Coral Glasses sat at her desk, the steady rhythm of typing filling the quiet room. ENA remained beside her, sipping the last of her coffee, her eyes wandering dreamily as morning light spilled through the garage door.

“Subject: ENA. Observed behavior remains consistent with previous assessments: erratic, expressive, and driven by motivations I have yet to fully understand. However, personal interaction over the last few days has revealed…more. There is a softness behind the unpredictable exterior; an emotional cadence I had only theorized before but now have witnessed firsthand. I don't know if ENA understands attachment in the same way I do. Her reactions are fragmented; yes, in part due to her construction, but also due to something deeper. A learned distance? A programmed detachment?

Despite this, she's stayed. Listened.

I’m aware that this entry drifts beyond professional boundaries. I’ll redact this later if I need to. But for now, I want this on the record: there is something remarkably grounding about her presence. And even if I’m still terrified of what others might think…maybe that doesn’t matter as much anymore. Note to self: Monitor changes in her emotional expressions following one-on-one time. Compare verbal cadence and body language to previous logs. And maybe…just maybe…let things unfold without cataloguing every detail. Just for a little while."

Coral Glasses paused, glancing over at ENA, who gave a small, satisfied sigh and leaned her head gently against her shoulder.

"...End of log."