After many years of applying a theory with no results, Toska and Alois have a breakthrough.
Toska was already awake when the sun had risen.
Long-limbed and frail, delicate in her own skin, pale grey eyes simply studied the scientist whose bed she sometimes occupied but never really filled. The doctor had always found it difficult to ascertain the necessity of a full range of emotion, a full spectrum of need,
her culpability in the negligence of his biological imperatives,
his fundamental criteria.
Yet in this moment, this quiet platonic moment repeated through all the times they'd existed together, when the sun lit him gently at the hazy dawn, she considered that what she felt for him may have been love.
It was difficult to verify.