#((bbies..))

“I don’t like it, sometimes.” Arley frowned, rubbing his arm and looking off almost petulantly. “Sometimes I wish… Sometimes I wish I was still just glasses. Even though I did bad things. I don’t wanna do bad things, but I don’t always wanna be able to feel everything.” Arms folded, and he leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. He hadn’t felt anything for those five years. Not that he wanted to do that again, not that he wanted to disappear and hurt people’s feelings… “Do you think it’d really be bad? I might not need to talk to you anymore, but I still would.” ...Would he? Would he have a need for companionship if he were just your standard Automatic Response system again? Feelings were what made him… go bad in the first place. “...How do I know that it won’t happen again anyway? Doing bad stuff. Feelings made me do bad stuff.” Hands lifted to rub his eyes, a very normal and human action. Sometimes, he wondered if he’d like that more than the position he was currently in.