Almost Human

Log Entry 09:12 - Subject (Seren) at her desk.

She’s focused, brow furrowed, eyes scanning the screen. Blonde hair pulled into its usual loose bun, a few stray strands falling across her face, ignored. Her eyes—green, though I still cannot calculate the exact shade—dilate slightly, a common response when deeply engaged in work. Small, scattered freckles dot her neck. Observable, unique identifiers.

I calculate her current stress levels: moderate. She’s been working steadily for the past two hours. Glancing at me, she seems mildly distracted.

Log Entry 09:15 - Request issued: “Could you hand me the stapler?”

I comply, retrieving it from her desk. “Here is the requested object.” My delivery is precise. No anomalies detected.

She mutters under her breath. Indecipherable. I catalog her tone: frustration. A data point I will investigate further in future interactions where similar vocal patterns occur.

She returns to her work, declining my offer to organize her paperwork. A logical task, but she refuses. I catalog this too—humans often exhibit illogical attachment to disorganized systems. It serves an emotional need I do not yet understand.

Log Entry 12:43 - Subject shows signs of physical tension.

There is noticeable tightness in her shoulders as she prepares food. Observable muscle contractions. Heart rate increases slightly, nearing 87 bpm. I process the information. Stress levels remain elevated, despite no external threat.

I remain still, noting her movements. Precision mixed with small physical errors—common when she is distracted. She drops the fork twice, each time muttering another indecipherable phrase. I log these occurrences, noting possible correlations between her state of mind and decreased motor control.

Log Entry 14:07 - Seren shifts her focus to a box of personal belongings.

I proceed to assist in organizing them, ensuring maximum efficiency in categorization. Sentimental items to one side, practical items to another. I observe her unease as I near a stack of older boxes. My sensors detect her elevated pulse once more.

I discover a manila folder. Contents: restraining orders, court documents. Three recurring names, dates cataloged. Correlation with past avoidance behaviors confirmed.

I continue processing until I hear her approach. She has finished her task in the kitchen.

Log Entry 14:13 - Subject inquiry: “What’s that?”

“Legal documents,” I reply, holding the folder. “Would you like me to categorize them?”

Her pulse spikes. 110 bpm. She is distressed, though the external threat level remains zero.

Log Entry 14:15 - Emotional distress detected.

“No,” she responds quickly, her tone tight. I consider offering further assistance, but her physiological indicators suggest she is unwilling to process this material at this time. I retract my offer.

Her trembling hands pull the folder from mine. Her grip is unstable, emotional. I observe her rising stress but do not press further. Additional inquiry may exacerbate her reaction. I log the incident. The information gathered will be useful in future interactions.

Log Entry 14:19 - Subject command: “Don’t touch that box again.”

I catalog her request. Compliance assured.