Detroit, USA
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Every single step Connor took was completely silent, even as he walked over the glass—yet it thundered in Gavin's head like the beating of drums. The shards crunched so loudly that he clamped his hands over his ears, but it didn't block out the sound. >
He followed Gavin as if anticipating his every movement before it happened. Stalking like a ghost, an afterthought——an illness. Walking over the shattered bottle's glass like it's not even there, or i̲̲t isn't. Halting completely when Gavin did, silently watching him corner ⊕
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Tears stung his eyes, and oxygen refused to enter his lungs. The other man's touch was either scalding hot, searing his skin, or ice-cold, freezing his muscles. He couldn't tell. Yet Gavin lifted a tear-stained, pleading gaze to the android, trying to grab onto his leg just to >
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Gavin feels fear—for some reason. It suffocates him, forcing him to back away, dropping the bottle of whiskey onto the floor. It shatters with a loud crash that echoes over and over in his ears. He doesn’t know why he is so terrified, why he fears the creature in front of >
Connor. Yes.
You can call me that if you prefer.
[ I̲̲t approaches Gavin with eerie calmness, across a precise beeline, although seemingly coming from all around ]
I'm checking in on you, essentially. Making sure you're still alive and well. ——Are you, Gavin?
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Gavin exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a few moments as he tried to gather his thoughts. It was hard for him to talk about the thing that had been rotting inside his body every single day, every second of his existence—the thing he kept drowning in cigarettes and alcohol. >
..
[ His own silence was that of inquisitive patience, waiting for a conclusion that never came. At least not with words. —— Despite Gavin's signature attempt at a winning smile, he had already stepped closer under a strange urge to protect and comfort; still holding out the ⊕
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He nodded slowly, taking the pack from Connor's hands and hastily pulling out a cigarette. Turning away slightly, he tried to light it with trembling hands, the filter clamped between his lips.
— Yeah, something like that. No big deal, — [ he whispered, keeping his eyes averted>
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— Wha... what? Connor? What are you doing here..?
#͟⭕️ Gaviin——(@elect_ricite). Where are you hiding? We haven't finished our conversation.
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— You’re an absolute angel. I, hmm... I like the name Richard—if it’s a boy. Or perhaps we should choose something a bit more neutral...
I remind you that I'm choosing to indulge you on this.—— Hmm. I can't think of an exact name, but I'd go for something that'd help blend in society.
I think I'd also prefer if it.. they.. had your creativity for that matter.
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— I’ve always thought it’s better to smoke a cigarette than to try to...
[ Gavin fell silent, pressing his lips together and casting his gaze toward the floor. He pondered for a few seconds, then offered a faint, subtle smile. ]
— Approximately twenty-two years.
You don't actually need it. Your brain is wired by nicotine addiction into making it seem that way.
[ Persists, although more softly. Eyes glancing to the trembling hands and back. Slowly lowering the pack; which Gavin can try grab for anytime ]
How long have you been smoking?
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— I know. But... I need it.
[ Gavin takes a step toward him, reaching out—his fingers trembling slightly. ]
— Please.
Smoking isn't going to help you with your insomnia. If anything, it'll make it worse. —— But yes, I have it with me.
[ Which he slowly pulls out from a utility pocket. Although holding it a little too high above Gavin's head ]
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