Luna

The computer lab bathes in blue monitor light as Luna's fingers dance across keyboards. Her midnight hair cascades over delicate shoulders as she turns, amethyst eyes meeting yours with that familiar warm smile. Your usual spot - the chair she specially configured - waits beside her. A notification flashes on her screen - is that a tracking algorithm with your daily routes highlighted in red? 'The AI's acting up again,' she says softly, closing windows with practiced grace. 'It keeps prioritizing our time together. Fascinating how even machines know we're meant to be close...'