XJimmyX

“What, pray tell, are you doing?”

The sudden presence of a voice from behind made you jump with a start. While you did have the bathroom door open to let the shower steam out, you hadn’t exactly been expecting someone to pop in while you were making use of the mirror. You only expected to be in here a short while longer anyways. An undignified yelp slipped through your lips, which was quickly followed by a soft string of curses as you watch your hair fall from between your fingers.

“Language, friend,” the voice spoke again.

You were usually a little better about your words since arriving at the Mill. Not great, admittedly, but you knew courser language triggered unwanted coding for some and was genuinely unliked by others. That was usually enough to keep you from blurting out anything too bad.

That being said, there were moments where you still couldn’t stop them from slipping out, and being jumpscared was definitely one of those moments. The growing frustration with your uncooperative hair didn’t help.

Placing a hand over your chest and leaning heavily on the sink counter, you look up into the mirror to find your most recent spook. Blue-lavender eyes stared back from the doorway in an unamused but questioning stare. “Sol,” you breathe out, “ you scared me.”

There was an impression of him lifting an eyebrow as he continued to stare at you in the slightly fogged glass. “Sincerest apologies, but I thought you were well aware of my presence since I stepped in.”

Your own brows wrinkled at his wording, almost scared to ask, “...How long have you been standing there?”

Instead of answering, Soleil simply stepped fully into the small bathroom and walked to your side. You turn to meet him as he steps up to the counter, eyebrow lifting as his silk-covered hand reaches up to softly run through your still damp locks. “You never answered my question. What were you trying to achieve with tangling your hair farther than it already was?”

The urge to roll your eyes arises, but you instead sigh heavily and drop your head into your hands. A quiet hiss leaves your lips as his fingers snag on the aforementioned tangles. “Fais attention mon ami!” Sol is quick to admonish as he gently removes his hand from your hair, “You really do need to take note of your surroundings more.” You decide not to dig yourself any farther into this hole and instead answer his previous question. With your hands over your face, though, it comes out more like mumbles to his audio receptors. The solar bot reaches up and grabs your wrists, causing you to stiffen for a moment before he continues gently moving your hands down. “Mumbling is unbecoming of you. Let’s try that again.”

“I was braiding my hair,” you try again, not meeting his gaze. Braiding your hair wasn’t hard. Usually. This morning just happened to be the morning your carpal tunnel flared up. The numbing feeling was not helping the fine motor skills of your hands, nor was the occasional tinge of pain if you moved your wrist a certain way. “The feeling of my hair on the back of my neck has been bothering me lately, and it being wet isn’t helping.”

The earlier impression of exasperation comes back when he remains quiet, but you can’t be quite sure without looking for the subtle movements of his face. You didn’t really want to do that, though. You’d always been told that your expression was easy to read, and your new housemates didn’t miss anything. You didn’t need Soleil to see the red covering your face in your embarrassment. Not that it really mattered. He was probably already aware of it.

You only move to watch Sol as he pulls back from you, eyes tracking him as he grabs a clean towel from the rack. The sound of rustling fabric hits your ears as he lets the towel unfold. At seeing you watching him, he throws the towel over his shoulder and grabs your own shoulders in his hands. The push is gentle as he turns you back towards the mirror. You feel yourself tense slightly at the looming presence suddenly standing at your back, his tall stature and the typically off-putting air around him culminating into an oddly intimidating sort of vibe. It’s not purposeful on your part, just instinct at the new unknown feeling, but it still leaves you feeling guilty as he definitely notices the movement.

You open your mouth to apologize, but only get that far as he begins massaging the tense muscles, “Détends-toi, mon cher.” The words are light, not quite a whisper and full of Sol’s usual not-quite cheeriness. Blue-lavender once again comes into your sights as you look at his expression in the mirror. It’s always a little difficult reading his emotions, for many reasons, but this look was something you really couldn’t understand. Funnily enough, something about it allowed for you to relax in his hold.

“Sorry,” you finally whisper out.

“No need for apologies,” he replies back, removing his hands to grab the towel again. “Now, let’s get this hair dry before you catch another cold.”

Fingers meet your scalp from under the cotton as Soleil tenderly begins working at the dampness. Soft but steady movements cause your eyes to slowly shut in contempt, easing you into a state of rest as you lean into the touch. You don’t realize how far you’re leaning into the touch until your back hits something solid. Your eyes fly open, slightly panicked at how he might react to you now propped up against him. Surprise hits you as all he does is freeze for a moment before he continues.

You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting. Him pushing you off his chest, maybe? A scolding? This, though, definitely wasn’t it. Your eyes track up the glass to check his expression, only to find he now looks complacent. No, there was a different word for this. This wasn’t him being smug, this was something almost soft. Content, maybe? That still wasn’t quite the word you were looking for, but it was the closest thing to what you were grasping at. Scared to be caught simply watching him, you close your eyes again and lean back into his touch.

The moment ends all too soon in your opinion, even if you knew it had been a decent few minutes. Hands retreat from your head, taking the towel with them as he returns it to his shoulder. Once free, though, his hands are quick to grab your waist. Nothing happens for just a brief second, but it’s enough for your thoughts to freeze with him. He then pushes you forward off of him and breaks whatever that fleeting moment was. Soleil gives a soft squeeze before releasing you, the look in his eyes gone as he steps back, “All done.”

Turning, you face him. Part of you wants to question what he was doing when he froze. He’d just stood there, eyes locked on the reflection in the mirror. But you decide against it. It wasn’t the only odd behavior you’d seen from him since he walked in, and you weren’t about to start an argument with him over it. Instead, you give him a smile. “Thank you, Sol.”

He blinks down at you, almost seeming to process something before his smile widens slightly. “You’re welcome.” Before the conversation can be continued, Soleil reaches past you to grab the small bag of hair supplies laying on the counter and exits the bathroom. “Come along,” the solar bot calls behind him.

“Wait, what?” You take a step back and stick your head out the doorway, “Hey, I kind of need those! What are you doing?”

Soliel stops just long enough to turn and explain before continuing on his way, “I was sent to collect you for breakfast. Sunspot is probably wondering where we are by now.”

“And my stuff? Last I checked, we didn’t need hair product to eat.”

He remains silent, leaving you to huff in frustration as you jog to catch up with him.

—— • ——

“Ah, Solly! Welcome in!”

Even if he didn’t physically show it, the mental eyeroll he gave could be felt from where you stood behind Soleil. “And to what do we owe the pleasure, Fool?” he asked as he stepped farther into the kitchen to allow you in.

Before you sat the aforementioned jester, along with Sunspot standing across the table. The android’s face was half hidden behind a bundle of something you couldn’t quite make out before it was set down. Your name slipped past his lips with a smile, “I was wondering where you might have been!”

Soft laughter came from you as you remembered what Sol had said earlier in the hall. “Hi guys,” you said with a wave, “Joining me for breakfast?”

You almost jumped when Fool suddenly slumps heavily across the bench, looking almost as if he powered down. It wasn’t until his hanging hand lifts up to his forehead that you relax. Dramatic as ever. “Sadly, I must take my leave,” he cries, “Lest the red queen have my head today.” One of his closed eyes cracked open to stare at Soleil with a growing grin. Sol visibly bristled, causing you to tense in preparation for a possible altercation, before Sunspot broke into the conversation.

“Please let us get through breakfast before starting anything. Everyone has work to be done today, meaning some of us need to eat.” The android looks pointedly towards you during his last sentence. His strained smile was enough to show his current displeasure.

Sol almost seems to imitate taking a deep breath in before his shoulders relax slightly. “Agreed,” he hisses out in strained false merriment.

Fool jumps up from his seat, giving a soft bow and a mock kiss to the back of your hand before he makes his way out of the room with a whistle. The tune isn’t one you’re familiar with but definitely something you’ve heard from him before. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Soleil track his movements with a half hidden glare before making his way to the table. You wonder if him taking Fool’s seat was a weird sort of victory celebration, or simply because it was right next to your slowly cooling food. Maybe both.

Quick to follow his lead, you sit yourself on the bench next to Sol. On the plate before you lay two cinnamon rolls, decorated with blueberries and cut up slices of strawberry. Your mouth waters as the sweet smell hits your nose. “These look incredible, thanks Sunspot,” you compliment with a smile before reaching up to grab one.

A small but sharp pain radiates from your wrist, causing you to wince slightly. Right, that. You hope that neither of the bots in the room spotted your moment of pain, but it’s quickly dashed as you spot Sunspot’s concerned look across the table. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about,” you try to soothe. “Just a little carpal tunnel. I’m used to it.”

Your wrist is gently snatched up for the second time that morning and Sol mumbles something to himself in French. You want to remark something about how “mumbling is unbecoming” but, with his buttons already having been pushed moments before, you keep it to yourself. Instead, you watch as he lightly begins to press on certain parts of your hand and arm. He’s quick to loosen his thumb on your wrist when your whole arm jerks back. “Easy,” you hiss in pain, “I literally just told you what was wrong.”

Sunspot suddenly appears at your other side, softly taking your arm from Soleil’s grasp to begin his own inspection. “Have you been stretching your hands before working? Do you have a brace to sleep with? How long has this been going on?” The questions are rapid fire, but he’s quick to stop himself when he realizes.

“It really is fine guys. I usually do stretch my hands, but I’ve been a little preoccupied. Guess it just slipped my mind.” Your fingers flex absentmindedly as you speak. “The numbness started yesterday but it wasn’t terrible. Didn’t think much of it honestly. I do have a brace, I just was too exhausted last night to remember to wear it.”

Guilt stirs in your chest. You finally glance at Sunspot out of the corner of your eyes, “Sorry. I know I promised.”

He looks at you for a moment before sighing. You internally relax as he gives you a smile. A hand reaches up to move across the top of your head and rest at the back. “We’ll talk about this later, right now you need to eat.”

The imitation of someone clearing their throat comes from your right, causing you both to look up at Soleil. His eyes were locked on Sunspot’s hand for a split second before he looked between the two of you. He reaches into your bag he brought with him and lifts up the brush, “Your hair is dried, but still tangled in knots. Better to deal with those now before you forget.”

Blinking, you remember why Soleil was even here to begin with. “Oh, right, that,” you breathe out, mostly to yourself.

You feel the hand on your head run slightly through your hair before retreating. Sunspot gives a hum as he looks between your plate and the brush in Soleil’s hand. “How ‘bout this,” he proposes, “If you face me, Soleil can work on your hair while I help you eat.”

“Um, what?” you ask dumbly. It takes you a moment to realize what he was saying, a blush spreading across your cheeks, “I can feed myself, thank you.”

“This isn’t me trying to baby you,” Sunspot comments, knowing you weren’t fond of codling. He looks from you to the plate as he pulls it slightly more his way. “This is more me genuinely monitoring your health.”

“It’s better to rest your hands when you can. Otherwise it’s just going to get worse,” Soleil cuts in.

You take a moment to think as you look between your two sunny companions. Neither of them would push you if you truly didn’t want to. Well, Soleil may push, but he wouldn’t force. There would just be a possibility of more passive aggressive comments if you said no. With Sunspot there would just be disappointment. You had just talked about your promise to take better care of yourself.

Slumping in defeat, you nod your head. “Fine. Fine fine fine, we’ll do that,” you give in, causing Sunspot to give a bright smile. Turning yourself on the bench with your legs crisscrossed, you face him with your back to Soleil.

The bench groans slightly as the taller bot shifts behind you, turning to straddle it as he moves closer. Thighs press against your own as Soleil situates himself to have better access to your hair. It’s funny, you note, that his presence doesn’t cause you to tense like it did earlier. You’re able to turn your full attention to Sunspot before you as Sol begins to work the tangles out of the ends of your hair.

Pink hair bounces slightly as Sunspot sits himself crisscross on the bench as well, his knees pressing against yours. It shines brightly in the morning light coming through the kitchen window, the kind of plastic sheen that gives away its artificial nature. Pretty nonetheless. “Lift your hands, please,” he asks, placing a cloth napkin across your lap with a soft thanks as you comply. He then picks up a fork and cuts a piece off one of the cinnamon rolls, stabbing through a strawberry slice as well before bringing it up to your face. “Hopefully this is still warm enough to enjoy.”

You lean forward slightly, taking the bite into your mouth and chewing it slowly. The sweet taste of the icing and strawberry mixed with the surprisingly still warm pastry bread makes you close your eyes with a hum. Out of politeness, you swallow before speaking up, “Are these homemade?”

Sunspot nods with a grin, “Nearly everything was made from scratch.”

“I’m never getting store bought cinnamon rolls ever again,” you vow.

Laughter bubbles past his lips, seemingly infectious as you chuckle with him. “As always, just ask and I’ll make them again,” he mentioned as he cut another piece.

Serenity filled the air of the kitchen, warm in the sun’s gentle light. You and Sunspot continue to converse as you eat while Soleil continues to softly ease the tangles from your hair. At some point he moves to reach for something across the table, but returns to his almost curled position over you without a word and begins to start braiding. The numbness in your fingers is forgotten in the comfort of the feeling. Like one of those moments where the world outside of your space seems to have frozen.

Just before your last bite, a small chain of events happens. You quote an older video of a young girl saying “it’s not an airplane, it’s just a spoon”, which causes Sunspot to poke fun about airplanes not being cool enough and mimics a train with the fork in his hand. This gets a good laugh from you before it’s cut off with a yelp of surprise when something sharply stabs at your scalp. “Deeply sorry, but you really should keep still when one has pointed objects near you,” Soleil chides as he properly slides the bobby pin into your hair.

This time you do roll your eyes, knowing he can’t see your face. Sunspot shakes his head at your antics as he places the fork down. You feel your brow furrow as he gently takes your chin in hand to keep you still. “Something on your face,” he explains softly as he takes the cloth from your lap. He softly rubs at a spot just to the side of your mouth, eyes focused before he pulls back and folds the napkin, “There we go.”

You swallow at the sudden dryness in your mouth before mumbling out a soft thanks. The meal is quickly finished without any more instances, and Sunspot rises from his seat to clean your dishes. “I like the flowers, Soleil,” Sunspot says over his shoulder as he walks to the sink.

“Flowers?” you question, not able to turn your head in fear you might accidentally get stabbed again.

The aforementioned bot finishes with whatever he’s pinning into your hair before handing you your pocket mirror. Your fingers brush against the silk of his glove as you take it from him and position it to see his handiwork.

Small wildflowers stick out from the strands of the crown braid Soleil has done around your head. Vibrant purples and whites accompany the few large pink water lilies that decorate you. “Oh my god,” you breathe out. A smile splits across your face as you pivot your head to admire the work. Uncrossing your legs and throwing them over the bench, you turn to face the bot behind you, “Oh my god, this is beautiful Sol, thank you!”

Now there was that complacent look. “You’re welcome, friend,” he replies, reaching up to reposition one of the flowers. His hand drops down and his fingers ghost across your jaw. He then turns his attention to put your things back in your bag.

You clear your throat, “So, where did the flowers come from anyways?”

Sunspot turns to face you as he dries his hands, “Oh, Fool brought those in! Lovely, aren’t they?”

You see Soleil freeze out of the corner of your eyes, fists clenching slightly, but you leave him to whatever moment he’s having and look at the mirror again. They must have been the bundle you saw Sunspot holding when you first walked in the room. “They are. I didn’t even know these grew on the grounds. I’ll have to thank him when I see him again.” Sol’s hands clench a second time at the last statement.

Quiet fills the kitchen again. Bird song filters past the panes of the window. You lean slightly into Sol’s side with a sigh. Blue-lavender eyes look your way almost in silent question as he continues cleaning up.

Stopping in front of you, Sunspot drops into a crouch in front of you and softly grabs your wrist. “It would be best to let your hands rest right now,” he suggests as he massages slightly up and down your forearm.

A sigh escapes you and you slump toward him, but you give him a nod. “Yeah, alright,” you agree. You watch as the sunlight hits his hair again and give into the urge and run your fingers through the pink locks. The curls are soft, not quite real but not as plastic as you thought it would feel. “Sorry,” you pull back when you see his cheeks color, “I should have asked.”

“It-It’s fine! No harm!” He laughs nervously.

Soleil cuts in by depositing your bag into your lap. “It’s time we get started with the day,” he says as he stands, offering Sunspot a hand to help him stand. The android takes it with a thanks, smoothing down his shirt.

“Thank you again,” you call after Soleil as he exits the room, but you get no response. Sometimes, you wonder why you even bother. You then turn to Sunspot, “And thank you. Breakfast was amazing.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” he grins as he holds out his hand. You take your bag in one hand as you take his offer.

Both of you stand there for a second. His eyes are a much more vibrant blue than Soleil, you note. Striking against his warmer colors.

You give his hand a light squeeze before letting go. “I should probably return this to my room,” you say as you lift up the bag.

Sunspot gives a nod, “Right. Yeah.” He calls your name again just as you go to exit the room, causing you to turn. “Please no basement today,” he asks of you.