#android levi

She grins brightly. “I see. Good news: I believe I know exactly which model will suit all your needs. Follow me.”

The woman’s heels click on the glossy white floor as she guides you through dozens of Androids, all in different shapes and sizes.

She stops next to a male Android with pale skin, straight black hair that falls partly over its forehead, and a handsome face with a defined jaw and cheekbones smoothed by soft looking skin. Behind it are dozens of other Androids. They’re all different looking, but just like the Android at the front, the black nameplate at their feet reads:  “ALK587-Series”, followed by their specific model names.

“Androids of the ALK587 are best suited for what you described,” the woman says. “They’re agile, perceptive, and reliable — perfect for everyday chores. They’re also particularly strong, so if you ever need to move furniture or do heavy gardening work, they can easily do that for you. For this reason, they’re slightly smaller than average to optimize their balance.”

She moves closer to the male Android at the front and gestures toward him. “This is our newest model in the ALK587 series. He’s programmed to be direct, honest, and slightly witty, with a touch of sarcasm. He’s perfect for anyone who enjoys a bit of banter, and who prefers bluntness and honesty over quiet subservience or over-friendliness. Cleaning is his speciality: he’s got very precise vision that allows him to detect dirty surfaces from afar, and advanced olfactory senses to detect any lingering odors. He’s also got an eye for order and tidiness, though the level of tidiness can be customized to your preference.”

“Oh, wow… Honestly, that sounds right up my alley. ”

Her smile brightens. “I believe so too. And best of all: he’s modeled to be task-driven, not relationship-driven, so you don’t need to worry about forming an emotional attachment with him. He’s not programmed to simulate a romantic partner or a close friend. Though I must admit there’s one caveat to that: his build is very pleasing to the eye. He’s sculpted to look very fit, so although he isn’t the most affectionate Android, if you like a bit of eye-candy—”

“Oh! Um— no thank you. I’m not really into objectifying androids,” you assure with a quick, dismissive flick of your hand. “It doesn’t feel right to me. What with the power-imbalance, and all.”

“Well, they are objects, but I understand where you’re coming from.” She winks at you. “I was going to show you his muscular build since his abdominals in particular are quite impressive, but if that isn’t your thing, we can move on to another model that—”

“Wait— abdominals? Can you show me?”

She purses her lips to hide a laugh, then lifts the Android’s shirt to show the most beautiful abs and pectorals you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Damn…” you mutter.

She laughs. “Impressive, right?”

You lift a brow. “Does he need all that for cleaning?”

“Among other things.” She smirks. “Every Android in our collection is very versatile. Some people enjoy cleaning services and a good view.”

“Understandable.”

“So… what do you think? Does he feel like the one for you? Or would you like me to go over our other models?”

You pretend to hesitate, but really, you’ve made up your mind already.

Those luscious abs have nothing to do with it whatsoever.

With a sly smile, you tell her, “I think this is the one. My bank account is ready to weep.”

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A week later, two delivery men from DroidTech — or rather, two delivery androids from DroidTech — place a gigantic package in your 13th-floor apartment. Jitters of excitement run through your body as they open the human-sized cardboard box in your living room.

They first take out a large charging station —a human-sized black husk in which the Android will have to stand each night. Next, they take out the Android himself.

The moment you see his face, your excitement amplifies tenfold. He’s wearing a simple white long-sleeved shirt rolled over his elbows, black pants, and black shoes. He looks slightly different here, in the soft afternoon light that pours through your floor-to-ceiling windows. With his eyes closed and perfectly still figure, he looks like some sort of sleeping beauty.

The two men give you a brief explanation of how to use the Android’s wireless charging station, then run over a few basic dos and don’ts that are all excruciatingly obvious (throwing an Android into a pit of fire is apparently not very good for them — who would’ve thought?).

Once they’re done, they hand you a thin tablet to place your signature on, and turn to leave. The moment the door closes behind them with a soft click, your excitement morphs into something else.

Nervousness.

There’s a man in your home.

Well— not really a man, but… kind of a man.

You approach him with careful steps, scanning his relaxed, still features. Hesitantly, you reach out to touch his cheek. His skin feels cool to the touch, but disturbingly real. It looks disturbingly real too, like every other part of him. How does DroidTech do this? Their biosynthetic technology is nothing like you’ve ever seen before. It’s genuinely shocking.

Slowly, you let your fingers trail down his cheek, to his jaw, to the back of his neck, where you find a small ON-button. Carefully, you press it, triggering a short melodious sound.

A heartbeat later, the Android’s eyes flutter open, revealing pretty grey eyes with blue flecks that seem to capture the sun. He blinks a few times. Slowly, his gaze sweeps over the room. He scans your floor-to-ceiling windows, your TV, your big cream-white L-shaped couch filled with fluffy pillows and blankets, the colorful rugs covering the wooden floorboards, the excess number of plants and wall-art, and your kitchen island.

Finally, his eyes flick to you.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.” You swallow, feeling surprisingly awkward. How does one… introduce themselves to an Android?

His gaze sweeps the apartment again. “Where am I?”

“In my apartment, at Litham Street 46, on the 13th floor. My name is—”

“Ah. Of course,” he interrupts. “I should’ve known, given the absolute mess and that hairy cat on the couch.”

You blink. “Wait—what?”

He sidesteps you and walks through the living room like he owns the place. He first moves to the left side of the room, where your kitchen island is bathing in the soft afternoon sun. He swipes an index over the black granite surface of the island, only to scowl at his finger. With an equally displeased expression, he grabs one of the fluffy pillows on your barstools — the one with a cute froggie wearing a mushroom hat — and sniffs at it. Sniffs at it. Like it isn’t clean or something.

You’re so taken aback, so shocked, that your feet are rooted in place, mouth ajar. You should probably say something, but your mind is stuck on the fact that there’s an Android in your house, and his first reaction is to insult you and inspect your place without being asked. Meanwhile, he strolls towards the right side of the room, where your big L-shaped couch encloses a cozy nook with a big fluffy colorful rug, a TV, a tall wooden bookshelf, and a low coffee table holding hazardly-stacked books, too many candles, and several forgotten mugs.

The Android stops by the couch and sweeps his gaze over it with military precision.

You clear your throat. “Uhm. What are you doing exactly?”

He ignores you, although he does shoot Cheesecake a dry look, which earns him a distrustful Meow.

“Tell ‘em, Cheesecake,” you mutter under your breath.

He steps toward your bookshelf and sweeps a finger over the wooden surface. “Have you ever dusted that bookshelf? Like, within the last decennium?”

“Excuse me? First of all, I only bought that bookshelf a year ago, so—”

“Answer my question.”

“Well…no.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Oh don’t be like that!” you protest. “What did you expect? I bought you for a reason.”

“Clearly,” he says, his dry tone bringing the Atacama Desert to shame. “Where are your cleaning supplies?”

You’re speechless. Utterly confused. But despite your brain fog, you manage to reply, “Uh… well, the basic everyday stuff like sponges, rags, and general cleaning sprays are under the kitchen sink. The supplies for deeper cleaning, like brooms, vacuum cleaners, bleach, anti-mold spray, and so on, are down the hallway. First door on your right, next to the bathroom.”

He marches straight to the hallway without any other question or remark.

You hurry after him. “Wait! Hold on— aren’t you gonna ask me about myself? Like… my name? What I need your services for? Anything?”

“I know enough.” He throws you a look over his shoulder. “Why do you think you had to fill in an extensive form about yourself when making your purchase?”

“Uh… I don’t know? I assumed they wanted to make sure I was an appropriate person to sell an Android to, since it’s a lot of responsibility, and Androids can be used to do crimes and stuff. And also, to make sure you and I were a good match, I guess?”

“Sure, but why do you think they’d go as far as asking your favorite meal or the names of your pets? They ask such details so that a bunch of useful information can be preloaded into my system. This reduces the amount of manual setup required from clients.” He opens the closet door, sinks to his knees, and rummages through two broken vacuum cleaners, old brooms, a few mops, musty rags, and, admittedly, a bunch of old clutter and unused crap you forgot you owned. “Cheesecake is a fitting name for your cat, by the way. Fat and sticky.”

“Hey! Don’t you dare insult Cheesecake!” you snap, aghast. “What is wrong with you? Are you malfunctioning, or something? You’re a high-end Android at my service. Aren’t you supposed to be polite? Aren’t you at least supposed to introduce yourself to me or something?”

He keeps sorting through your closet without sparing you a look .“I doubt the vendor at DroidTech didn’t warn you that I was blunt.”

“Sure, but she didn’t say you were straight-up rude.”

He throws you a look over his shoulder. “Didn’t you write in your form that you don’t get offended easily?”

“I do not get offended easily!” you grit, majorly offended.

“Great. Then this arrangement won’t be a problem.” He closes the door and turns to look at you, arms crossed. “I thought you said this closet had anything required for deep-cleaning?”

“…Yes?”

“What kind of deep-cleaning are you talking about, exactly? This is the most asinine cleaning closet I’ve ever seen.”

Your fingers itch to choke his metallic tube of a neck. With gritted teeth, you finally spit out, “Okay, you know what? That’s it. I’ve seen enough. I’m sending you back and giving you and that whole damn store a one-star review.”

He lifts a condescending brow. “And bring the employees into trouble because of your mistakes? Next time you fill in that form, I suggest you don’t pretend to be a hardass, and instead admit you can’t take criticism very well.”

You squint at him. “I never said I did.”

“Think again. To the statement, ‘I am able to take direct or harsh criticism without taking personal offense,’ you filled in a five out of five. Don’t bother denying it. It’s all stored in my memory.”

“… I really feel like punching you right now.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. My body feels human to the touch, but beneath the softer tissues are a lot of hard metals. You’d hurt yourself, particularly because your hands are meaty and weak.”

“Meaty and weak?!” you cry out, utterly scandalized.

You briefly consider tossing him out of your 13-story window, but he interrupts your assassination plans by saying the most audacious, ludicrous, outrageous shit your eardrums have ever had the misfortune of hearing.

“Can you pass me your bankcard?”

“What?!” Your voice has turned into nothing but a scandalized screech.

“Your bank card,” he deadpans.

“What?! No!”

“Could you keep your voice down? I can hear Cheesecake bristling from here, which causes her fur to rub onto the couch. This only aggravates my deep-cleaning task ahead.”

“Cheesecake can rub into the couch however she likes. Also, why the hell do you need my bankcard?”

He tilts his head like this is the dumbest question he’s ever heard. “So I can buy proper cleaning supplies — which, believe me, is highly necessary. “ His eyes narrow. “Why the surprise? You specified in the fill-in form that you wanted me to do groceries for you. How did you think that would go?”

You cross your arms like a stubborn three-year-old. “I don’t know, but certainly not like this.”

He sighs. “You don’t need to give me your bankcard, but you do need to at least give me your bank details so I can link myself to your bank account. That way, I can freely make purchases for you without using your physical card.”

“I’m not linking you to anything. I don’t even know you! I don’t trust you.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m an Android, not a human being. Stealing would violate the behavioral constraints programmed into me. I can’t override it, and trying would trigger an automatic shutdown.”

That makes you pause. “Really…? So if you try to steal from me, you’ll just… stop functioning?”

He clicks his tongue in irritation. “Of course I’ll stop functioning. I’ll automatically shut down, and both you and DroidTech will be alerted of it. Haven’t you listened to any of the explanations given to you during your purchase? You didn’t even read the manual?”

“…. I admit I zoned out a little during her explanation, so — hey, don’t look at me like that! I had several rough deadlines last week. I was exhausted.”

He crosses his arms and stares at you like a scolding father. “Then you need to take better care of yourself. And that starts by letting me take care of your apartment.”

This earns him a dry look. “Who says I won’t return you? I’ve clearly been scammed. I thought DroidTech was a respectable brand, but it turns out I was dead wrong. You’re the most disrespectful, bad-mannered robot I’ve ever encountered.”

“FYI, that would cost you 800 bucks. Bit of a waste, no? Though I guess the choice is up to you, as silly as it may be.”

“Eight-hundred?! You’re joking?”

He clicks his tongue. “Of course you didn’t read the return policy. What a surprise.”

“Who the hell reads return policies nowadays? I don’t have time for that.”

“Anyone with slightly more foresight than a sponge, though I guess that would be too much to ask of you.”

You almost punch him then and there, but fortunately for him, your pride, your morals, and your meaty weak hands are holding onto their last shred of self-preservation. For several heartbeats, you two just stare at each other. His face is blank, while yours is seething.

You’re the first to break the silence.

“Say I draw a nice hot bath for you, will you drown?”

For the first time, the corners of his lips twitch into a half smile. “Lovely thought. Didn’t know you struggled with homicidal thoughts, but it’s dully noted. And no, I won’t drown. I can reliably withstand water as long as I activate waterproof mode in time.”

You exhale a disappointed sigh. “What a pity.”

Instead of further entertaining your assassination plans, the Android turns his back to you and steps through the tight hall, passing colorful pictures and framed artworks decorating the soft peach walls. He opens the bathroom door and scans the area, then moves to the next door.

“What are you doing?” you ask as he enters your bedroom.

Completely ignoring you, he steps on your big fluffy white rug to reach your double bed, which is tucked in the corner of the room by the massive windows. After throwing a quick glance at the stunning view of the city skyline — an appreciative glance, you hope, although you doubt he’s familiar with the concept of appreciation — he sweeps a finger over the windowsill, which sits at the same height as your bed and holds several books, candles, and mugs.

And, admittedly, some crumpled tissues, forgotten tangerine peels, and empty boxes of cookies, along with more than one cookie crumb.

You clear your throat. “Are you just going to ignore my question? What are you doing, exactly?”

“Making an assessment of the tragic state of your apartment.” He gives your closet a quick scan, then heads to your desk, which is a mess of notebooks, pencils, old paintbrushes you purchased in the hopes of pursuing your forgotten artistic dreams, stickers, books, candle holders, plants, and a desktop pc with a cute pastel keyboard.

“My apartment isn’t in a tragic state,” you retort.

He snorts.

“I’m serious,” you urge. “It’s not tragic. It’s just cozy and… lived in.”

Just then, he almost steps on a small bundle of fabric on the floor. He picks it up and holds it up for you two to see. A black thong stares back at you.

He lifts a brow. “Yeah? You call throwing your clothes all over the floor ‘lived in’?

You quickly snatch the underwear from his grasp and narrow your eyes at him, cheeks heating. “Shut up.”

He cocks his head, angling his ear slightly towards your chest. It makes him look uncharacteristically robotic. “Your heart is beating faster. I hope you’re not catching feelings for me. Humans tend to do that disturbingly fast.”

You burst out laughing. “In your dreams.”

“Androids don’t dream.”

Before you can come up with a clever reply, he walks past you and enters the living room again.

“Where are you going now?” you whine as you hurry after him. “Can’t you just settle down for a second? I’ll clean it all up myself if that’s what it takes. Just… sit down!”

“I do appreciate a good lost cause, but that would defeat the purpose of me being here.” He strides towards the kitchen area and sinks to his knees to open the cabinet door under the sink. After a rumbling through it for a few seconds, he sighs. “As I thought. Pure tragedy.”

In response, Cheesecake jumps on the kitchen island behind him, looking like an angry white cotton ball. With exposed canines, she hisses loudly. She’s digging holes in the Android’s back with her sharp green eyes, but he doesn’t seem to care.

He lazily gets up and leans back against the kitchen sink, eyes on Cheesecake. “As unwelcoming as her owner.”

“Well, of course,” you scoff. “You’re a complete asshole. Like, genuinely the definition of a dickwad. And to make matters worse, you’re also a complete stranger.”

He side-eyes you. “Stranger? You keep talking about me like I’m a human. I’m not. I’m a robot.”

“Yes, but a ridiculously advanced robot, so really, there’s barely a difference at this point. You’re a strange, rude man in my apartment, and neither Cheesecake nor I am taking it very well. At the very least, you should have a name. Isn’t that part of the configuration process? That you’re assigned a name by me?”

He shrugs. “Fine. What do you want to name me then?”

“What about Hemorrhoids?” You smile sweetly while ticking off three fingers. “A pain in the ass, horribly irritating, and will punish you simply for sitting around and having a good time.”

“Very funny,” he deadpans.

You cross your arms, smiling. “What? Do you refuse to take on the name I give you?”

“No, I can’t refuse, but if you’re serious, I will lose all respect for you.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You respect me?”

“Hardly. It’s dwindling by the second.”

“Fine.” You sigh in defeat. “I’ll name you something proper. What about…”

You trail off as you take a moment to observe him. His smooth skin and dark hair glow in the setting sun, softening his features. His eyes capture the light like pretty crystals, and combined with his long black lashes, you have to admit he looks breathtaking. What a waste, honestly. DroidTech really poured their hearts into his looks, just to turn it all around and give him the personality of a moldy shitstain.

But you suppose a pleasant-looking robot deserves a pleasant name, although that doesn’t sit entirely right with you.

Finally, you land on “Levi.”

“Levi,” he repeats, like he’s tasting the name. “Fine by me.”

“I’d love to say ‘welcome home, Levi. I appreciate you being here,’ except we both know that’s not true.”

“Spare me the veiled insults, and just link me to your bank account already, so I can finally do something about this place.”

“Hmm….” You step closer to him until you’re only a small space apart. With squinted eyes, you scan his face. His nose is actually kinda cute, and his lips look quite soft, but that’s beside the point. You scan his throat, his collarbones, and his white shirt. Carefully, you brush your fingers over his shoulders, then his muscular-looking upper arms.

He scowls. “What the hell are you doing?”

You pat his torso, trying your best not to do it in a pervy way. “Where are your buttons?”

“What buttons?”

“Don’t you have any buttons?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“I want to lower your cleaning and tidiness standards. If I remember correctly, the vendor at DroidTech said I could change those settings.”

He gives you an unamused look. “Trust me, no settings will let this shit pass.” He gestures at your apartment with the disgust of someone standing in a rat-infested sewer.

You exhale a defeated sigh and take a step back. “Damn. Fine.”

“And next time you want to change my settings, either open the user manual they gave you, or ask me directly. And for the record, I don’t have any buttons except for the one at the back of my neck, which can be used to shut me down. Something I’m very tempted to do myself, so I don’t have to deal with your ridiculousness any longer.”

“You know what? Fine. You win!” You throw up your hands in defeat. “I’m done arguing. I’ll let you clean the place. It’s not like I have the skills or the desire to do it myself, and frankly, if I have to listen to any more of your complaints, I’ll toss myself out of the window.”

“I see you’ve finally learned the concept of self-reflection.”

“Oh shut up, Levi.”

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Miraculously, once Levi returns home after two hours of grocery shopping, no apocalyptic fight erupts. He sets the bags down on the kitchen island and, with a curt look, confirms he respected the spending limit you gave him — though not without an irritated click of his tongue and a grumble about the ‘ridiculousness of limiting his purchases’. When you open your banking app to double-check that he didn’t make any dodgy transactions, he rewards you with an eye roll. Still, the balance doesn’t lie: he came in under your limit by exactly five cents, which is honestly impressive.

You spend the rest of the evening on the couch, playing video games and scrolling through your phone while Levi thoroughly cleans the apartment. Not even your noise-cancelling headphones can conceal his furious scrubbing. It makes you feel like a neckbeard gamer with a sad neglected girlfriend, except that when you look at Levi, he doesn’t look sad or neglected. He just looks focused.

And maybe a little disgusted by your shoe rack by the door. You’re not sure which small speck of dirt has caught his attention now, but you’re not willing to find out.

Unfortunately, as you continue gaming, the neckbeard-feeling grows into proper guilt.

You clear your throat. “Do you want me to help?”

He briefly stops furiously scrubbing your shoe rack to throw you a disgruntled look. “Please no.”

“Why?” you ask, offended.

“Because you clearly can’t clean for shit. You’d only make my job harder.”

“Wow, okay, Jeez. Fine. I won’t ask again.”

“Don’t.”

Ugh. What a prick. You try to continue gaming in peace, but you’re too distracted by your annoyance. Levi’s ferocious scrubbing — which can surely be heard all the way into the cosmos — is not helping.

Disgruntled, you turn off your gaming console and make yourself a cup of chamomile tea, before fleeing into the bedroom. The floor practically shakes under your feet from all of Levi’s violent cleaning, but you manage to hold back a snarky comment. After shutting the door, you put your noise-cancelling headphones on, place your teacup on the windowsill next to your pillows, and stare at the darkening city.

God, why are you stuck with such a dramatic, bratty, unnecessarily rude Android? It’s souring your mood. Unfortunately, you’d sooner perish than pay the 800-scam-money required for a return, so you’re both stuck together for the foreseeable future.

But you know what? Nothing that a little bit of self-care can’t fix. A book, tea, and soft background music through noise-cancelling headphones will improve your mood in no time.

You’re about to start reading your cosy romance book, when you decide that today is surely a particularly bad crisis day, meaning you direly need candles to aid your mental health. While keeping your teacup balanced on your book, you reach for a lighter on the windowsill.

A major fuck up on your part. The steaming cup of chamomile tea keels over your flowery duvet. You almost yelp from the pain and scramble away, throwing the burning duvet off your thighs, but it’s too late: your skin is stinging like hell. You quickly grab the cup, but almost the entirety of its contents is spilled over the bed already. A big stain wets the duvet, making you curse under your breath. If Levi finds out, you’ll never hear the end of it. You quickly reach for tissues, but it’s too late.

As if summoned by the scent of your turmoil and fear, Levi enters the room. His sharp eyes immediately zero in on the spilled tea spread over your duvet.

“I knew it,” he grits.

“Jesus, what kind of supernatural ears do you have?”

He walks over and stops right beside you, looking down at you with murderous eyes.

“Get up.”

“What?”

Without a warning, he grabs you and lifts you up, princess style.

“What are you doing?!” you yelp.

In a few quick strides, he carries you to the bathroom before unceremoniously dumping you into the bathtub.

“Ouch!” you whine, which he completely ignores…. the rude asswipe.

Before you can demand that he explain himself, he turns the faucet on to max level. You yelp in shock as cold water rushes over your thighs.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You try to crawl out of the bathtub like a jumpy cat being forced to bathe, but he pushes you back down.

“Stop moving,” he orders. “You need to keep your leg under cool running water for at least twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?!”

“Yes. Stay here. Don’t you dare move.”

In an instant, he’s gone. You hear him fussing with the duvet, muttering as he carries it into the kitchen to scrub it under the sink. A quiet grumble about “the clumsiness of humans” reaches you as he disappears into the small room across from you, the one with the washing machine, dryer, and two clothing racks.

After five minutes of this, you decide you’ve had enough. You’re freezing your ass off, and surely, your skin cells don’t need twenty minutes to cool down.

You try to discreetly tiptoe out of the bathtub.

Levi immediately enters the bathroom before you’ve even managed to take a full step, like the perceptive monster he is.

He glares at you. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

“Levi, I’m cold! And uncomfortable!” You inhale a sharp breath and scream, “Cheesecake! Help meeeeeee!”

Cheesecake wants nothing to do with any of this. She stays hidden in the living room, deciding to leave you to die. You can’t help but feel betrayed.

Levi stares at you with a deadpan look, appearing entirely unimpressed by your dramatics.

You know what? Fine. You can do this yourself.

You attempt to move past him in a quick surge, but he catches you and dumps you into the bathtub once more.

You cast him the meanest, most annoyed scowl you can muster. “This isn’t fair. I should be able to make my own decisions. I’m a grown-ass adult.”

“You certainly don’t act like it.” He crosses his arms and leans back against the doorframe. “Maybe this’ll teach you to be more careful next time. How did this even happen?”

“…. I don’t want to talk about it.”

He mercilessly scrutinizes your horribly ashamed face.

“Regardless,” he says after a beat of humiliating silence. “You’re not getting out of the bathtub until twenty minutes have passed — unless you truly order me to let you go, of course, but if you do that, I’ll hold it against you for the next decennium.”

You briefly contemplate your options, then decide that a decade of continuous nagging is simply not worth it. You bought this Android to help, not to die a premature death from stress and exhaustion, though at this point that may be inevitable.

True to his word, Levi stays in the bathroom for the remaining fifteen minutes to make sure you don’t flee. Fifteen full minutes of you brooding and sulking like a pouty child, while he busies himself inspecting every surface of your bathroom with the precision of a sterility Operator in a pharmaceutical cleanroom.

After this hellish moment passes, you crawl out of the bathtub like an angry wet cat and put some warm, comfortable pyjamas on. Without sparing Levi another glance, you trudge toward the couch and bury yourself under five soft blankets and Cheesecake’s fluffy warm body, because you forgive her (for now).

You keep your gaze fixed straight on the TV. You don’t want to see the Android’s petulant face right now, or any of his presence in general — although deep down, you’re secretly a little bit thankful because at least your thighs aren’t really hurting anymore. But of course, you don’t tell him that.

Once night falls, and your rage has settled, and the stars scattered across the breathtaking skyline glitter as brightly as the citylights below, the delicious aroma of curry starts filling the room. You haven’t even asked Levi to cook for you, but perhaps it’s obvious this is his job from now on. Or perhaps he’s so averse to starting a conversation with you, that he’d rather guess his tasks than ask.

After twenty more minutes, your curiosity and grumbling stomach win the battle. You finally crawl out from under your blankets and approach the kitchen, noticing with a salivating mouth that two steaming pots are cooking on the stove. Meanwhile, Cheesecake jumps under the couch to hiss and meow at the devil, formerly known as Levi.

“Whatever you’re cooking, it smells delicious,” you admit.

He casts you a brief sideways glance as you join him by the stove. “Look who decided to crawl out of their cave,” he says dryly.

“Mmmm it looks delicious too.” The curry is thick with spices and vegetables, making your mouth water to ungodly levels.

“I know.” He gives the pot a final stir, then turns the stove off. “You’ll be pleased to know it’s done.”

You temper your face and try not to look too hungry and predatorial as you throw a generous amount of curry and rice on your plate. “Thank you for feeding me, Levi,” you mutter, despite your simmering frustrations. It’s strange having someone clean your place and cook for you, just like that, without getting paid or expecting anything in return. You even cussed him out earlier, yet he still made you a delicious meal. It feels a bit…. imbalanced, though you suppose that’s the point of owning an Android, and the reason he cost you a whole kidney. It’ll probably take a little while to get used to, but you’re not opposed to the idea.

He doesn’t answer, but you don’t care. With a little too much eagerness, you take a seat at one of the kitchen island’s barstools, then wolf the food down like a starved peasant.

After a few moments of heaven, you look up to find Levi watching you. He still hasn’t moved from his spot by the stove. He’s leaning back against it, looking at you in silence.

Your fork falters mid-air, frozen by a sudden surge of awkwardness. You hesitate. “It’s delicious, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“… Do you want some?”

He stares at you, completely unamused.

You clear your throat. “Nevermind. Forgot about the Android thing for a sec.”

His expression doesn’t change.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “This is a bit weird. You just standing there, watching me eat.”

“If your Highness prefers, I can go hide in the closet until you decide my presence doesn’t inconvenience you anymore.”

You snort. “Oh come on, don’t be like that. You don’t need to go anywhere. Just… sit down.”

His eyes narrow in distrust. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want it to be awkward between us. I think we started on the wrong footing, and I’d like to rectify that.”

“I don’t feel any awkwardness.”

“No shit. I don’t think you feel much of anything, but I do, and I need us to have a better relationship for my mental well-being. And Cheesecake’s. She’s not faring well with you trotting around, and I’m sure our strained relationship is partly to blame.”

“Strained relationship is a bit dramatic, no?”

You roll your eyes. “Just sit down already.”

With a sigh, he does as told. He sits opposite you, resting his head on his hand in a pose so human-like and relaxed that it’s terrifying. When has technology gotten so advanced? It’s actually concerning.

“What do you want from me?” he says dryly.

“Jeez. You’re such a sweet ray of sunshine.”

“So they say.”

You sigh. “Listen, I just want one light conversation. I didn’t buy you to be my friend, I know that. I have no intentions of trying to turn you into a fun comrade, but frankly, you’re way more human than I expected, so I need at least a few short conversations to get accustomed to you.”

He frowns. “We’ve had short conversations since I arrived here.”

“I mean conversations that don’t make me want to run into traffic.”

“Oh. Okay. So you want me to ask you questions?”

You shrug. “Something like that.”

He pauses for a beat. “Okay. I’ll shoot. Why do you have a ukulele next to your bed? Do you play?”

You take a bite of your food and swallow it down. “Not really. Well, I tried. Apparently, playing instruments is good for managing stress. But honestly, the learning process got on my nerves because I sucked ass, so I gave up. At least, for now. I’m planning to pick it up again when I have more time.”

“Managing stress?” he repeats, tilting his head as he regards you. “Are you often stressed?”

“More often than I’d like,” you admit.

“Why?”

“My job, mostly. I work for a big publishing company, which is something I’ve always wanted to do, but I have a shitty manager.” You hesitate, then add, “Also, since I moved to this city three years ago, I haven’t had many social interactions keeping me distracted from work. My friends live too far away to hang out on a regular basis, and the same goes for my family. And I’m too tired after work to meet new people, so I’m a little isolated, which gives my job too much room in my head.”

“That sucks.”

You sigh. “Yeah. But it’s okay. I manage. I have enough hobbies to keep me busy.”

He nods. “Good.”

You glance down at his hands as you take another bite of your food. “Can you play the ukulele?”

“Not yet, but I guess I could learn.”

“Hmm.” You squint at his fingers, chewing. “Is your digital control that good?”

“Pretty good, yeah. Androids like me, from the ALK587 series, are quite dexterous. We have good motor skills to help us excel at domestic tasks. I don’t know about playing instruments, though, but I suspect I can learn it with practice.”

“Interesting,” you hum with a growing smile. “Maybe we should learn it together sometime.”

“Maybe.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “I’ve got another question. Why don’t you fold your clothes properly in your closet?”

“You know what? I think we’ve made enough progress for today. Let’s stop here.”

To your surprise, he looks mildly amused. A ghost of a smile lifts his features. “Whatever you want.”

Instead of staring at you like earlier and making you uncomfortable, he gets up and washes the cooking pots. Once your plate is empty, he takes it from you and puts it in the dishwasher. You want to thank him, but a big yawn comes out instead.

“You should go to sleep,” he says while cleaning the sink.

“Yeah. I probably should.” You begin to head to the bathroom, ready to perform your nightly routine, but halt midway. “Wait… what about you? Are you gonna… sleep too?”

He puts the rag away and turns to look at you. “I’m going to dock for charging and switch to standby mode, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Can you… do it now, in front of me? I want to see you do it. I’m curious.”

This earns you an exasperated look. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. Pretty please?”

He exhales softly. “Fine.”

You can’t hide your giddiness when he walks to the human-sized black charging station near the door. Turning to face you one last time, he steps backward into the open frame. The unit hums to life, thin lines of blue light tracing over its surface as it locks into place around him.

A moment later, a soft blue ring glows beneath his skin at his temple, pulsing twice. His eyes drift closed as the light shifts from blue to orange, signalling standby. The hum settles into a steady rhythm.

He goes completely still.

“Wow…” you mutter into silence. “That’s crazy.”

He doesn’t reply, of course. He’s sleeping… or whatever.

Nonetheless, you whisper a soft, “Goodnight, Levi,” before turning off the lights and going to sleep.

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:

And now you’re both suffering the consequences. It’s not that the atmosphere is uncomfortable, exactly, but it isn’t as careless and casually affectionate as it used to be. You’ve been using every excuse to flee the apartment, and for the first three weeks after the kiss, Levi didn’t understand what your discreet stares and subtle pullbacks meant.

Until he finally caught a glimpse inside that conflicted brain of yours. Last month, you hastily called Levi, demanding he send you a file from your work laptop because Fred needed the document right now and you were at a concert and oh god you were gonna die. While searching for the file, he stumbled upon several open articles that made him freeze on the spot:

Android Psychosis: a new epidemic?

Human-Android attachments and their large-scale societal impact

The psychology of falling in love with a robot, and why we should all be concerned

On Android love and cognitive dissonance

Android-Induced Psychosis: A New Frontier in Mental Health

Am I delusional? Yes, you are, and this is why you need professional help

The call turned silent for so long that you hesitantly asked if everything was okay. “Yes. Just looking for the file,” Levi said, keeping his voice neutral even though he was fucking dying inside. He’s still dying to this day, but he copes with his feelings by cleaning the apartment to clinical levels of sterility.

Halloween is a great distraction. It helps Levi forget that in your eyes, this friendship is nothing more than a long episode of psychosis and cognitive dissonance. He even manages to smile and tease you with the natural ease he used to harbor before he saw all those cursed articles, and in turn, your smile is almost as bright as it was on that pretty summer day by the lake.

Together, you and Levi pass by colorful trees and flurries of crispy leaves, stepping in and out of shops to raid the Halloween aisles. Nothing escapes your greedy paws. You manage to fill three large shopping bags with pumpkin lights, plastic spiders, spooky candles, claw-shaped wine glasses, ghost-shaped cookie cutters, synthetic spiderwebs, and God knows what else. You also beg for eyeball balloons, but Levi finds those too atrocious, so you both agree on witchy cat napkins instead.

Once you’re finally back home, you immediately get to work. The apartment transforms into a cosy haunted house — which nearly costs your life, because you manage to keel your chair over while hanging pumpkin lights on the wall. Levi catches you just in time. Breathless, you blurt out a hasty “Thanks!” that reminds him of that day at the lake when you lost your balance, and your heart started galloping, and he let his palms linger longer than he should.

He’s not making that same mistake now. He immediately releases your waist while muttering how clumsy you are.

Still, the shape of you, the warmth of you, tingles against his palms long after he lets go. Forever etched into his memory, like every other small interaction he’s shared with you, looping in his mind over and over again.

Sometimes he wishes his mind worked like humans, with their fleeting memories made of blurry images and fading emotions. It’s much better. Human minds may be limited, but at least they’re given the mercy of forgetting and moving on. He, on the other hand, is stuck with data he can’t erase, forever accessible whenever he longs for the past. It’s fucking aggravating.

His only respite is this silly Halloween distraction. You don’t give Levi time to mull over unrequited love, his trapped heart, and all that kind of pathetic shit. He’s too busy over-decorating the place like it’s a life-or-death competition, because you’re constantly on his ass demanding he lights more candles and hangs more ghost decorations and can he help installing the spiderwebs?

Once the apartment is as cosy and Halloweenish as can be, it’s time to make fun spooky cookies (your words, not his).

Good in theory, except it turns out to be utter chaos. You’re a horrendous baker. It’s a travesty.

But Levi can live with it, because at least he gets to bully you for getting flour on your nose and ears. You stubbornly point out that your clumsiness has nothing to do with the quality of your baking and that you’re a fantastic cook, but those outrageous claims shamefully ebb away after he points out that you’re over-kneading the dough, under-whisking the butter, and severely overestimating the size of half-a-teaspoon-of-salt.

Nose in the air and bruised ego on the floor, you trot away, claiming you don’t care about the damn cookies because choosing the right horror movie is a much more important Halloween task anyway.

Levi snorts. He snorts again when he takes out the ghost cookies fifteen minutes later, and catches you ogling them with the predatory hunger of a starved beast.

“I thought you didn’t care about the cookies?” he hums as he places the hot oven plate on the stove.

“I don’t. Bring them here, though.”

“No. They need to cool down first.”

You jump up. “What?! For how long?”

He leans on the kitchen island and, with a growing smirk, watches you squirming on the couch. “For however long I deem necessary.”

“You’re a monster, Levi.”

“Indeed. Perfect for the Halloween spirits, don’t you think?”

“Ugh. I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

You exhale a long sigh, but Levi doesn’t miss the small smile curving your mouth as you sift through dozens of Halloween movies. Once he concludes you’ve suffered long enough, he finally places all the cookies on a plate and brings them to the couch with a cup of spicy tea, where you lie under several fluffy blankets and an even fluffier Cheesecake.

“Finally!” you cry out. You rip the plate from his hands and devour the cookies with the delicacy of a starved troll.

“Have some decorum,” he chides while sinking beside you on the couch.

“No thanks.” You cover his legs with your soft blankets and scoot closer. “Oh my god, Levi, I have the perfect movie for tonight.”

The perfect movie turns out to be mediocre at best.

It’s one of those classics Levi will never understand the hype of, with a cartoonishly unhinged masked murderer and cheesy sound tracks that are laughably dramatic. At the sight of his unimpressed frown, you assure him that the movie is nostalgic and timeless, and that he just needs to give it a chance.

Instead, Levi just finds it severely lacking in pixels and acting skills. He makes sure to tell you as much, but according to your counterargument, he’s objectively incorrect and he simply lacks taste and culture.

Fine by him. His mind isn’t really on the movie anyway — which uses idiocy as a plot device and jumpscares as a cheap substitute for actual tension. Instead, his attention is on you. With each jumpscare, you try to stifle a yelp (failing half the time) and attempt to contain your flinches (failing every single time). As the movie progresses and idiotic characters drop like flies, you scoot closer and closer to him. Eventually, you clutch his bicep in a diagonal fetal position, conveniently fussing with nonexistent specks of lint on his shirt whenever the music fades and another jumpscare lurks around the corner.

“Eyes on the screen,” he orders, just to mess with you.

“Just a second.” You swallow thickly. “There’s— there’s another loose lint on your shirt.”

He leans down to whisper in your ear, mouth nearly grazing your skin, which sends a noticeable shiver down your body. “You’re missing your masterpiece of a movie.”

That does it. You finally tear your gaze away from his arm and warily flick it towards the movie. Your heart thrums against his elbow.

Another jumpscare has you flinching into his body and holding him with a death grip while you muffle a screech.

Levi smiles. Watching horror movies with you might be his new favorite activity.

His amusement doesn’t go unnoticed. You look up at him with a scowl. “I don’t like that I’m the only one jumping. It makes me feel like a wuss.”

“That’s because you are.”

You slap his arm. “I’m not! If you were human, I’m sure you’d be scared too.”

He snorts. “Whatever helps you feel better about yourself.”

Despite the scornful shake of your head, an amused smile softens your expression.

Until it fades away.

Your gaze drifts to your hand clenched around his. It stays there, long enough that a prickle of concern pulls Levi’s gaze from the TV.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

You don’t answer at first. When you finally do, your voice is quiet and unusually frail. “Is it sad that you’re my closest friend, and that I’m spending Halloween with you?”

Levi tenses. “Why would that be sad?”

“Well, because…” A long pause. “It’s not real, is it?”

An unexpected slash sears through Levi’s chest. He needs several seconds to catch his bearings. He flicks his gaze to the TV, because watching people getting butchered is a lot easier than looking at your torn expression.

“How would you know it’s not real?” he asks.

“Because, well—” You halt and bite your lip in thought. “I guess I don’t know. But you’re… programmed, right? So it’s not… you know…”

He hates this conversation. Hates himself. Hates that ten months of being with you every day, of teasing you, bickering with you, longing for you, missing you, can be reduced to… lines of code. He detests that nothing he says or does will ever feel real to you.

And the worst part is that maybe you’re right. Maybe none of it is real. Maybe this is all just the inevitable consequence of a faulty algorithm that a sweaty computer science engineer should’ve spent a week longer on. Perhaps none of these feelings are him, because there is no him to begin with. Just a faulty code simulating and mimicking feelings and reactions he will never truly understand.

He keeps staring at the TV, unable to meet your eyes. He just has to bear an hour longer. As soon as the movie is over, he’ll dock into his charging station and call it a night. In the meantime, all he needs to do is pretend to watch. Just one hour.

“Or do you see it differently?”

Your voice is soft, careful. He looks down at you, nestled against his shoulder, looking up at him with a glimmer of… hope? Defiance?

Whatever it is, your expression melts some of his bitterness away.

He hesitates. “Do you want me to see it differently?”

“I want to know what you think. Your genuine, honest thoughts, outside of what everyone else says.”

He sighs. “I think…” he pauses for a beat. “I honestly think we’re not so different, you and I.”

You straighten to face him better. “How so?”

“We’ve lived together for ten months. You know me by now. Do you really feel like we’re astronomically different? I don’t feel that way.”

“Me neither, but… you’re programmed, and I’m not.”

“Aren’t you?”

Your eyes, warm and glimmering with reflected candlelight, dart between his, searching. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m bound — or should be bound — by behavioral constraints programmed into me, but arguably, so are you. Your decisions are bound by millions of rules too, no? Morals, upbringing, societal expectations, your personality, all that. You don’t choose any of these things; you have no control over them, yet they rule everything you do and feel. Most of your actions could probably be predicted with an extremely complex code, at least if all factors were known. I’m the same way. We’re not that different.”

You nod, but it’s slow and hesitant. “That’s one way to see it.”

“And it doesn’t mean your emotions aren’t real, or that your decisions aren’t your own. You’re still you, even if everything you do is determined by a ton of invisible rules.” He shrugs. “That’s how it is for me, too. I make my choices, even if they’re bound by statistics and mathematics.”

You lie back against his shoulder and hum in thought. “Determinism, huh? I didn’t take you for a philosopher. ”

“Being faced with existential angst every day kinda has that effect.”

You straighten again. “You experience existential angst? Really?”

Levi rolls his eyes. “How simple-minded do you think I am?”

“I just… I didn’t know you felt things like that. Things that aren’t at all related to what you’re programmed for, I mean.”

Levi fixes his gaze on the TV, jaw clenched, because he really doesn’t want to look at you right now. “You really believe, to this day, that I’m incapable of feeling anything? That’s what you’ve been thinking all along?”

“No—it’s not— I mean…  I’ve looked it up and stuff, and it all just sounds like… you know…”

“Like I’m an object with no consciousness. Like I don’t make my own decisions, and everything I say is just empty, artificial acting, all determined by some greedy project manager whose life mission is to brainwash their poor victims — I mean clients — and make them so attached to their androids that they’ll never move on.”

You suck in a sharp breath. “That’s not what I thought!”

Levi glares at you. “Isn’t it?”

“… Okay maybe it’s a little bit what I thought. Or feared.”

Levi scoffs and flicks his gaze to the TV. He shakes his head, but remains silent.

“Hey, Levi, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Levi, look at me.”

“There are currently people dying on the screen,” he says flatly. “You should pay attention to the movie.”

“Levi, come on.” Warm fingers catch his chin, pulling his gaze to you.

It kills him, looking at you like this, so close yet completely out of reach. Your eyes search for something, but Levi doubts you see him. Maybe you’ve never truly seen him, even when he held you when you cried, or when he made your favorite meals, or when he peddled you around on that little boat and kissed you until you were both out of breath.

“Tell me,” you say, voice gentle. “Do you feel what I feel?”

He wants to look away, but your eyes bore into his, insistent and unrelenting. “I’ll never know how it is to be you,” he says, “and you’ll never know how it is to be me. But I do … feel things. Whatever that means. I’m pretty sure I feel things I’m not supposed to feel, but I can’t explain what I’m experiencing, and nothing I say will prove to you it’s real anyway. You can always believe that whatever I say is a manipulation tactic by some shitty engineer, like all those crappy articles claim.”

Your brows knit together. “What articles?”

This time, he successfully tears his gaze away by slipping his face out of your gentle grasp. “Remember when I had to go through your laptop to find a work file of yours? When you were at that concert? Well, you still had a bunch of articles open about Android psychosis and cognitive dissonance and whatever. I know what’s been on your mind.”

“Oh.”

Oh indeed.

Levi doesn’t reply. He contemplates just getting up and stepping into his charging station. This conversation makes him fucking miserable. He’s had enough.

“Levi, listen,” you urge, swallowing hard. “I’m really sorry. And if it helps, I don’t think those articles are the entire truth. If you say there’s more to it — to us — then I want to believe you’re right.”

Want to believe. What does that even mean? Wanting to believe something doesn’t make it real. It’s wishful thinking, not a promise. It’s empty and utterly meaningless.

“Someone’s getting killed again,” he notes dryly, voice dampened by hysterical screams.

“Levi, I don’t care about the fucking movie.”

To Levi’s utter shock, you crawl on top of him. You straddle his legs and cup his face between your warm palms, blocking his view of the TV.  His body freezes, his eyes widen, but your expression is painfully determined as you gently caress his cheeks with an intimacy he never thought he’d feel again.

“Do you really believe we’re alike?” you whisper. “That those articles are wrong?”

His eyes narrow in defense, despite the heat surging through his body. “Does it matter what I believe?”

“Yes. It matters to me.”

Levi exhales through his nose and looks up at the ceiling, praying for strength. The deities don’t give him much; he has a hard time meeting your gaze again — so intense, hopeful, and conflicted.

When he finally speaks, his voice is flat, yet coated with a subtle hint of desperation he can’t hide. “If you really want to know: yes. I don’t think the difference is as big as people make it out to be. We’re both driven by complex neural networks and small currents buzzing around. I’m bound by certain obligations, but I make my own decisions, as do you. At the end of the day, everything I feel feels real to me. But then again, what do I know? I’m just a robot.”

“Don’t say that.” You shake your head, a deep frown tightening your features. “You’re not just a robot. You’re so much more than that.”

His gaze travels over your face — your eyes, nose, lips, cheeks, hair — taking in all those details he loves so much. Those features that are so uniquely you, and that give him a sense of belonging he can’t quite explain.

“What am I to you, then?” he asks.

Silence.

You swallow thickly and inhale a deep breath, heartbeats noticeably picking up. You open your mouth, then close it again.

When it finally looks like you’re about to say something, another ear-piercing screech makes you jump, snapping the tension like a cord and effectively ruining the moment.

Levi rolls his eyes. “Can we turn the movie off? It’s stupid as hell.”

A sly smirk slides over your nerves like a mask. “Nope. It’s a classic masterpiece. You’re not getting out of it that easily.”

Funny, because ‘getting out of it that easily’ is exactly what you’re doing right now. The moment has passed, and you’re taking great advantage of it. You crawl off him and reclaim your position beside him, tucking yourself against his shoulder and leaving his question unaddressed. Like he never asked anything in the first place.

Somewhere, it’s a relief. Even though Levi is the one who asked the question, he doesn’t think he’s truly ready for the answer.

At least, not the full answer. For now, a small glimpse is enough. He’s not sure what your ridiculous grip around his arm means, or the soft smile that wasn’t there before, but it’s enough to help him relax and enjoy the closeness while it lasts.

:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:

“Who are you texting?”

Kate’s drunken smile is as sly as ever as she attempts to peep over your arm.

“No one.” You quickly slide your phone into your purse and shoot her an innocent smile. Your phone buzzes, but you try to ignore it.

She wiggles her brows at the exact rhythm of the music booming through the party. “A hottie?”

“Yes, actually. He has a lethally pretty face and delicious abs. You’d drool, I fear.”

“Awww you should’ve taken him with you!” she whines while grabbing your arm in excitement. She almost topples over her stiletto heels. Miraculously, she manages to look charming while regaining her balance, probably due to her radiant laugh, sophisticated dark curls, and long elegant dress that glitters under the flashing party lights.

“Not a good idea.” You sigh. “He’s an Android.”

“Ah! No worries. That’s even better. Androids tend to be far superior to human men anyway. More emotionally mature. And better looking. Look around us! It’s a tragedy.”

She turns toward the dancefloor with an exasperated scowl, gesturing at the packed crowd: dancing men in fancy suits and pretty chemises, women wearing elegant dresses and heels, all equally drunk. Above the crowd, multiple disco-balls and ‘Happy New Year’ balloons glitter in the flashing lights.

You playfully slap Kate’s pointing hand away. “Stop objectifying our colleagues! Besides, they’re not all bad. Most of the men at our firm are pretty decent, no?”

“Decent. Not hot. You said it yourself.”

With a snort, you loop your arm around hers and drag her through a sea of dancing bodies, straight toward the buffet.

“What about Connie?” you yell over the music as you grab a spongy-looking chocolate cake. “I thought he was your work crush?”

Unfortunately, the cake is not half as good as Levi’s cakes. Food tastes bland nowadays when he’s not the one making it.

Kate scowls in disgust. “I saw him picking his nose yesterday during a meeting. Extensively.”

“Oof.”

“Mhm.” She picks a tiny cookie and sticks it in her mouth. “Bet that Android of yours would never do that.”

“Nope. He wouldn’t.”

Her dark eyes turn mischievous as she takes a generous sip of wine to wash her cookie down. “Is he realistic-looking? Your Android?”

You nod. “Scarily so. Pretty much indistinguishable to humans. Why?”

She grins. “Perfect. Take him with you for our next after-work. No one will know he’s not human, and it’ll be so much fun! And the rest of us will finally get some eye-candy.”

You give her a look. “If I ever bring him with me, he’ll kill Fred. You don’t want to know how much hate I’ve spewed about that man.”

“Oh!! Even better!” she yelps. “It’ll be the best party ever!”

You snort into laughter.

“Cmonnn! I’m serious!” she urges. “There’s no shame in having an Android boyfriend. I know it’s still a little taboo, but I think it shouldn’t be. And like I said, no one needs to know anyway.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you retort, cheeks heating. “He… he’s….”

Kate’s brows wiggle in that typical infuriating way of hers. “He’s what?”

“He’s my housemate… friend. My buddy.”

She snorts. “Sure, girl. Whatever you say.”

“Kate, I’m serious!” you protest, laughing.

She lifts her hands in defense. “Whatever you say!”

Your phone buzzes in your purse. You take a big sip of wine in an attempt to distract yourself, but it’s not working. Your fingers itch to open Levi’s texts. Problem is: you don’t want to give Kate the satisfaction of catching you smiling at your phone again. You wouldn’t hear the end of it.

But hell, if it isn’t tempting. After your honest conversation during Halloween, things changed between you two. Your walls crumbled, which must be why you started texting him at random moments of the day. At first, you always had an excuse. You wanted to know what he was going to make for dinner, or if he needed something from the store, or something equally unnecessary. After a few weeks, the pretense fell off. Texting him turned into a habit, and eventually, an addiction.

Your phone buzzes again. You scan the crowded room for a solution.

Your solution presents itself as two of your favorite colleagues shaking their booties like this night is their last.

You jerk your chin towards them. “Look at William and Alec shaking it. We should join them.”

Kate’s face brightens as she spots the two men aggressively twerking on an ancient Beyonce classic with exactly zero shame. “Oh, excellent idea! Let’s go.”

“I just have to go to the bathroom first. I’ll join you in a sec.”

“Want me to come with you?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. I won’t take long. In the meantime, show William and Alec how it’s done, please.”

“Sure thing.” With a wink, she turns on her heels and approaches both men, a dancing swing in her steps.

You slip into the bathroom, which is empty and looks as fancy as the rest of the place: glossy black floors, dim atmospheric lighting, crystal soap dispensers, and thick bouquets decorating the stone washbasins. You grab your phone the moment the door closes behind you, embarrassingly eager. The most recent texts appear on the screen.

Levi: Yeah, for sure.

You: also, fred finally showed his petulant face

You: he immediately started complaining about a presentation kate and i made last week

You: DURING AN END OF YEAR PARTY

You: he literally had to yell it over the music??

You: i fucking hate his bitchass

Levi: Poison his drink.

Levi: Or lock him in the basement. No one will know.

Levi: Is there a balcony? Throw him off the balcony.

You smile at his last three texts and start typing right away.

You: no keys to the basement :(

You: and no balcony :((

His replies are instant.

Levi: What about a flight of stairs? Surely there’s one high enough.

Levi: Want me to come over? I can do it for you.

Levi: What’s the address?

You: nopeee not giving you the address lmaoo

You: you’d get in trouble so fast

You: actually, I’m surprised you’re even able to make murder plans without automatically shutting down

You: doesn’t this violate your behavioral constraints or something? i remember u saying something about that. I thought androids werent allowed to make murder plans?

Levi: I have my ways.

You: hmmmmmm interesting… i’ll keep that in mind

You: btw i like how quickly you respond whenever we discuss murder plans for fred<3 instant gratification

Levi: Yes, well, I can’t exactly ignore you when your messages are sent straight to my internal interface. I always immediately respond.

Levi: Unlike you, by the way. Always leaving me in the cold at the most annoying times.

You: sorry xoxo

Levi: You’re totally not sorry.

You’re interrupted by a woman stepping into the bathroom — someone from the Supply Chain department you vaguely recognise. You shoot her a quick smile. She returns it and disappears into a stall, just as your buzzing phone drags your attention back to the screen.

Levi: By the way, don’t get too drunk.

You: as if i’m ever too drunk 😐

Levi: ….

Levi: Have you forgotten the stunt you pulled last week? I had to come fetch you because you were completely shitfaced.

You: i dont know what ur talking about

You: also!! that was the first and only time I’ve been pissdrunk in YEARS

You: and kate was to blame

You: plus i wouldve been just fine by myself. not my fault you insisted on driving me back (thanks tho<3)

Levi: I’m not even going to entertain that last statement.

Levi: I bet Kate is with you again. I smell an incoming disaster.

You: ofc she’s with me, but dont worry we’re being very responsible xx

You: about that, she begged me to take you to our next afterwork

You: and i quote: “it’ll be so much fun! And the rest of us will finally get some eye-candy”

Levi: Please no…

Levi: Literally what the hell.

Levi: How does she even know what I look like?

You: I may have given her a little description 😇 a generous (accurate) one 😇

Levi: I genuinely don’t know how to feel about this.

Levi: Why would you do this to me?

You: sorry xoxo

You: ngl i’m srsly considering it. my colleagues are in dire need of a hot person to ogle at to cope with fred’s tyranny

Levi: What the fuck.

You’re just about to send something outrageous to add to Levi’s misery, when the door bursts open. Kate, William, and Alec stand by the door, looking frantic.

“Come on, come on!” Kate urges, flicking her hand. “You don’t want to miss this!”

You blink. “What?”

“Fred’s going to make an announcement,” Alec elaborates. “No idea what it’s about, but we think it’s gonna be juicy. Or it’s going to make us all want to jump off the nearest bridge. Either way, you should be there to endure it with us.”

The Supply Chain woman steps out of her stall and washes her hands, looking confused. “An announcement?” she asks.

William nods. “They turned the music off and all.”

It’s only now that you notice the silence. The extent Levi manages to pull your attention from reality is honestly diabolical.

“Let’s go.” Kate grabs your hand and drags you out of the bathroom.

In the main room, obnoxiously bright spotlights are directed to a small podium, around which a dense crowd is gathered. Excited murmurs and impatient shuffles swell in the air — because of course Fred would let the crowd wait in anticipation for dramatic effect.  The wall above the podium is covered with bright balloons and festive tinsels, a big contrast to the abomination of a man who steps on the platform with a microphone and a glass of champagne. The spotlight glints off his massive balding spot like a reflector, where only a few sad grey hairs cling on for dear life.

“There he is,” Alec whispers.

Fred clears his throat. “If I could just steal everyone’s attention for a minute?” He taps his champagne glass and smiles as the chatter fades. “I know this is technically the end-of-year celebration, but I thought it might also be an appropriate moment to mark a personal milestone.”

He pauses for dramatic effect.

“As some of you may have already heard: after, well, quite a few years here, I’ll be retiring in February.”

William gasps. Your eyes widen.

Kate’s fingers tighten around your arm. “Is it finally happening?!” she whisper-hisses. “I thought it was a fake rumor!”

Armin from IT turns around and shoots her a half-amused, half-scornful look.

“It’s been an extraordinary run,” Fred continues, voice confident and boisterous. “When I first stepped into the Design & Marketing department — the largest department of our firm — things were… different. Smaller ambitions, smaller thinking, and just… overall lacking.”

He intentionally pauses while adjusting the cuff of his stupid, over-expensive fuckass shirt. “But any Head manager worth their position knows that 'limits' are only restrictions we put on ourselves. I immediately saw the potential of my department. Over the years, I—we transformed it into something far more ambitious. Covers that actually turned heads, and campaigns people remembered. A department that understood that publishing isn’t just about books, but about vision.”

In the corner of your vision, Kate rolls her eyes. William stares at the ceiling, praying for some semblance of patience.

Fred smiles as he takes a moment to sweep the room. “And I’m proud to say I had a hand in shaping that vision. A big hand, dare I say.”

He pauses, likely expecting an applause.

He doesn’t get one.

He does get two or three polite chuckles from people who have never worked under his tyranny, including his boss.

“Of course,” he continues, “none of that happens without a team. I’ve worked with a great many talented people here.” He gestures broadly across the crowd. “Some of you learned a lot under my guidance.” A small smile tugs at his mouth. “Some of you… had more difficulty. But I think we can all agree the results speak for themselves.”

Kate leans in to whisper in your ear. “Do you have tomatoes on hand we can throw?”

You pout. “Unfortunately not. I did spot a pile of dogshit near the entrance.”

She snorts.

“I won’t pretend stepping away will be easy,” Fred continues. “When you’ve spent decades setting the standard, it’s hard to imagine the place running quite the same without you, but I trust the foundations I’ve laid are strong enough to carry on.” He lifts his glass. “So here’s to the company, to the Design & Marketing department, and to the work we’ve done together over the years.” His smile sharpens. “And, I suppose, to the legacy we leave behind.”

“SOMEONE PUT THE MUSIC BACK ON!” someone yells from the back of the room.

Fred freezes. He frowns and squints against the light, trying to find the culprit in the crowd, but before he even gets the chance, someone else yells: “DJ PLAY GOOD RIDDANCE BY GREEN DAY!”

The room bursts into chaos. Kate cackles. Alec muffles a disbelieving yelp, and William bursts into laughter.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” someone else screams, clearly drunk as hell.

Someone claps in a hopeless attempt to save the day and trigger an applause for Fed’s dumbass speech, but the sound drowns under all the chaos. Fred’s mortified expression is comically exposed under the bright spotlights. Though, arguably, it’s even more humiliating once the lights flick off, leaving him in the darkness, awkward and frozen.

A second later, an upbeat pop song blasts from the speakers. Everyone chatters hysterically, laughter and mentions of Fred’s humiliating speech rising above the bass.

When you look at the stage again, Fred is gone.

Kate jumps into your arms, nearly toppling you back. “WE’RE FINALLY FREEEEE!!”

William and Alec join the hug, and soon, other close colleagues join along, until you’re all giggling and dancing in a massive, chaotic circle hug. Everyone yells how this is the Best Party Ever and Life Truly Keeps On Giving and Fred’s Humiliation Will Forever Be The Highlight Of Everyone’s Careers.

Every poor soul who has ever slaved away under Fred’s regime bonds over their shared trauma, sending you into tears of laughter. While Marco recounts the day he nearly got fired because Fred disliked the particular shade of green he chose for his powerpoint, you slip away to share the good news with Levi.

Except your phone doesn’t turn on.

“Shit.”

Kate appears beside you. “What’s wrong?”

“My phone died,” you groan.

“Oh man…” she pouts. “It’s okay. Just stick with me. We’ll share a ride back together.”

You place your head on her shoulder. “Sounds great. Thank you so much.”

She winks, a sly grin brightening her face. “Maybe it’s for the better. Now you have no choice but to dance the night away without annnnyyy distractions. We have something big to celebrate!”

Before you can properly ruminate over Levi — who will surely be a little worried — Kate places a glass of Prosecco in your hand and pulls you to the heart of the dancefloor, swinging you around and laughing any speck of concern away.

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This comparison can’t be stressed enough. You cannot believe you still have to deal with Fred’s nonsense. After a horrific day of typing at the speed of light and sweating your ass off to finish an impossible deadline — because, yes, setting ridiculously unrealistic deadlines is Fred’s speciality, of course — all he has to say for it is that ‘he can already smell your hasty performance is going to disappoint’, and ‘could you email him a detailed summary by 6 at the absolute latest?’ even though you’re booked with meetings until then. You almost quit your job then and there, before remembering that you quite like having money. So instead, you go home with an increased blood pressure and a dwindling life expectancy.

The walk back home is depressing, the way January walks always are. It’s cold, as dark as midnight, and rainy.

By the time you reach your apartment building, all drenched from the pouring rain, you’re completely spent. An old woman in the elevator stares at you with a worried frown as you lean against the wall like a soggy mop, looking on the cusp of death. When you finally reach the 13th floor, you trudge out of the elevator and open the front door using your very last remnants of energy.

You close the door and lean back against it, sighing the longest sigh you’ve ever sighed. Defeated, you step into the living room.

Something moves in the darkness.

A figure.

You scream and stumble back, tripping over your feet and falling. Before you have a chance to get up and run, the figure approaches at rapid speed. You scream again. The dark shadow is on you. You put up your hands to protect your face, when the lights suddenly flicker on.

Revealing…

Levi.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he snaps, looking down at you with an outraged frown.

“I— I didn’t know it was you!” you stammer, heaving from shock. “Y—You scared me!”

His frown only deepens. “Who else would it be?”

“Why are you standing in the dark like a creep?!”

“I don’t need light. I have night vision.”

“…. That’s fucked up.”

“How is that fucked up?”

“Nevermind. Just… please never do that again, okay? As long as you’re out of your charging station, keep the lights on. You gave me a goddamn heart attack.”

He crosses his arms. “This is just ridiculous.”

You stretch out your hand. “Could you please help me up?”

He takes your hand and pulls you up. You push off at the same time, badly misjudging just how ridiculously strong he is. The combined momentum sends you straight into his hard chest, knocking a soft “umph” from your lungs as you collide with him.

“Oops, sorry,” you mutter awkwardly. Just as you’re about to step back, realization halts your movements. You carefully poke his torso with furrowed brows. When pressing deeply, you can feel hard material beneath his chest, but when softly poked, his torso has the same soft firmness as a real human man. “Wow, you’re pretty soft, actually. And warm. Just like humans. Why are you so warm?”

“The same reason your laptop heats up when you use it. It’s not rocket-science.”

“It definitely is rocket-science. Your entire existence is rocket-science. And holy shit, those abs. God damn. They really packed you up, didn’t they?”

You look up from your greedy probing fingers, only to find him looking at you with a raised brow.

“You done?”

You promptly release his luscious abs and take a step back. “Yep. Sorry. I was just admiring the science.”

“…The science…” he deadpans.

“Exactly. Anyway, is dinner ready? I’m starving. And I’ve had a real shitty day that I want to forget all about as soon as possible.”

Dinner is ready, and it’s surprisingly nice. You never thought dinner with Levi could be nice. Not only is he an excellent cook who can make a killer risotto, but he lets you eat in front of the TV without too much of a fuss, and he even agrees to join you on the couch to watch a trashy reality TV show until late in the night (albeit with a bit of reluctance). You light a billion candles, feeling soothed by their visual warmth, and, shockingly, by Levi’s presence as well. Luckily, he doesn’t ask about work — you’re really not in the mood to talk about Fred today. He simply roasts the contestants of the show like his life depends on it.

“Jaron talks a lot for someone contributing absolutely nothing,” he mutters, legs stretched out over the coffee table.

You smirk as you swallow down a savoury bite of risotto. “Yes, well, he’s athletic and got a decently pretty face, so I guess he’s got something going for him.”

Levi’s face contorts in disgust. “What are you talking about? He’s got the sexual appeal of a pile of horse shit.”

You burst out laughing. “Honestly, they all kinda do. Although Dave isn’t so bad.”

“Are we looking at the same person? He walks like a Neanderthal.”

“Okay, what about Jacob, then?”

“He looks permanently constipated, and he has the IQ of a sock.”

You snort. “Yes, well, he isn’t the brightest bulb in the box, but neither are the others. At least Jacob has somewhat of a nice vibe?”

“Why are you defending him? He’s built like a tapeworm.”

You burst out laughing again, but now that Levi’s pointed out the strange resemblance, you can’t unsee it.

He side-eyes you. “Why are you watching this nonsense anyway?”

You shrug. “It’s entertaining. And it secretly makes me feel better about myself.”

Levi snorts.

The rest of the night goes just like this. He compares the contestant to tapeworms, expired yoghurt, syphilis, and uncooked broccoli, while taking the Lord’s name in vain at least thirty times. It’s great. You can’t stop laughing. Genuine joy floods you, and most of your stress dissipates by the time the clock ticks close to midnight. Yesterday, you wouldn’t have believed Levi could get a good laugh out of you, but you were wrong. The key, apparently, is to redirect his grumpy hostility towards other people.

As time passes, you sink deeper beneath the blankets, the glow of the screen blurring at the edges of your vision. The show fades into a distant murmur, the voices melting and fogging together until your eyes finally flutter shut.

After a while, you shift back to consciousness just enough to register a vague sense of movement: strong arms carefully sliding under your back and knees. You register it dimly, but you’re too tired to question it, and too comfortable to care. The world tilts, then settles again. You think you hear the television go quiet.

A moment later, you’re lowered onto something cool and soft. You barely stir as soft warmth settles over you. It’s your duvet, you realize: fresh and still warm from the dryer. You sigh into it, instinctively curling in on yourself.

Whatever consciousness you’ve got left drifts away after that, leaving you wrapped in the soft, safe feeling of being taken care of.

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:

“I’m craving sweet-salted caramel cookies sooooooo bad,” you whine, arms and legs spread out  on the couch like a lazy potato. Cheesecake, who is nuzzling on your stomach, purrs in agreement, her fluffy white fur glowing like a halo in the setting sun.

“You’ve said that already,” Levi grumbles while dusting the bookshelf.

“Could you go to the supermarket and get some for me? Pretty please?”

He turns around, and with his two hands resting on his hips like a scornful mother, he scrutinizes your lazy, ridiculous form lying on the couch like an old rag.

You scowl at him. “Why are you acting like I’m inconveniencing you when this is literally your job?”

“Last time I checked, you aren’t paying me for my services.”

“….Do you want me to?”

“No.”

“Then what is it? Are you jealous or something? I mean, I get it. I’d be bitter too if I couldn’t eat sweet-salted caramel cookies. No wonder you’ve been an asshole since you arrived.”

“Funny you think that your lazy, gluttonous self could ever inspire jealousy.”

“It’s Sunday!” you retort defensively. “Sundays are made for lazy gluttony.”

“You know what? Fine. I’ll get your damn cookies. If only to get a reprieve from watching you lie around being useless and annoying all day.”

True to his word, Levi returns half an hour later with a small bag of groceries. A few snowflakes dot his dark hair, which would make him look fluffy and cute if it weren’t for the judgy frown plastered on his face.

“Here. Take these,” he says as he takes out two bags of cookies and a box of vitamins.

Puzzled, you inspect the box. It’s a generic set of 60 multivitamins to boost immunity and strength. You look up at him with a confused frown. “Why did you buy me vitamins?”

“I’m hoping this will cure your chronic laziness. Maybe you’re nutrient-deprived or something. I don’t know how else to explain your commitment to doing absolutely nothing all day. It’s actually insane.”

You snort. “That’s just human nature. It’s called being efficient. I’m sparing my energy.”

He doesn’t grace you with a reply, and instead, goes back to dusting the bookshelf.

Which is fine by you. You don’t need his replies. All you need right now is buttery delicacies. With a pleased sigh, you bite into a delicious cookie while watching thick snowflakes flurrying over the city. What a wonderful, peaceful Sunday.

Or so you believe, until Levi decides to punish you by loudly vacuuming every crumb that slips from your grasp, including the ones that land on your thighs. He’s using his favorite vacuum cleaner, the TitanForce Dust Annihilator 9000 Extreme, which nearly sucks the skin off your bones and will surely give you permanent ear damage one of these days.

“Stop vacuuming my legs!” you shriek.

“If you stop making a fucking mess.”

“It’s an order, Levi. If you don’t stop vacuuming my legs, I will send you back to your charging station for a whole day.”

You never thought you’d threaten to ground a grown man — or Android, whatever — but this crisis clearly demands parental-level discipline.

He grumbles a complaint that is barely audible over his loud vacuuming — something about the “insufferable nature of humanity” — but thankfully, he doesn’t come near your legs again. Instead, he redirects his frustrations onto the carpet.

After a few minutes, his ferocious vacuuming starts getting a bit concerning.

“… You okay?” you ask hesitantly, mouth full of caramel cookies.

The only reply you get is a particularly ear-piercing VRUMMMMM from the TitanForce Dust Annihilator 9000 Extreme.

“Do you want one?” you urge, lifting a cookie.

Finally, he turns the thing off and gives you an irritated look. “No. You know damn well I can’t eat.”

“That’s so sad.”

He rolls his eyes. “Spare me the sarcastic pity. Here, take this—” he grabs his small grocery bag from the coffee table, which you thought was empty but apparently isn’t, and takes out a very familiar metallic can. “Give this to Cheesecake.”

You sit up straight so fast that your vision briefly blackens. “Is that SuperTunaPlus?! Wait— you bought Cheesecake’s favorite snack? Why would you do something so….”

“So what?”

“So…..… nice? Are you malfunctioning? What’s wrong with you?”

His expression tightens with annoyance. “It’s just to facilitate my work. It’ll help her get less jumpy and grumpy.”

You squint suspiciously at him. “How exactly would that facilitate your work?”

“Just give her the damn snack already.”

“No, it's okay, you do it,” you say, waving him off.

He clicks his tongue. “You’re so damn lazy, it’s actually ridiculous. Aren’t you ashamed?”

“Yes — to both statements — but the reason I’m asking now is because it’ll help her like you better if you feed her. She distrusts you so much that it’s stressing her out. It’s time you gain some cat-affection points.”

“That won’t be necessary. I don’t need any cat-affection points.”

“I apologize if that came out like a question.”

His eyes narrow, but you don’t relent. You stand up and walk toward Cheesecake’s food and water bowls against the wall beside the kitchen. “Come. Follow me.”

He does, but with a deeply distrustful expression.

“Cheesecake always eats here,” you explain, “and with the way she’s looking at us right now, she’s probably already hoping to get some snacks, but she’s too wary to come over yet. Luckily, there’s a solution for that. The only thing you have to say is—” you lean into his ear, hoping that’s where his internal mic is, and whisper, “Psst psst, Cheesecake, it’s snackie time.”

He gives you a flat stare. “Is this a joke?”

“No. Why would it be?”

“It’s a ridiculous line. And also, why did you whisper it like that?“

“Because you have to say the words so she starts trusting you. She can’t hear me say them first.”

He sighs.

“Say it,” you urge. “And hold out the SuperTunaPlus.”

Slowly, he faces the wary cotton ball spread on the couch, acting like you’re holding him at gunpoint. He reveals the metallic can in his hand, then grumbles, “Psst psst. Cheesecake. It’s snackie time.”

You’re not sure how he does it, but he somehow manages to make it sound like a threat. Nonetheless, Cheesecake jumps off the couch, but she approaches with slow, wary steps and stops midway, her ears up in alert.

“Pitch up your voice,” you suggest. “It’ll help make you sound more welcoming.”

Levi glares at you. “If you think I’m going to spend my days squeaking at the cat like you do, you’re sorely mistaken.”

You exhale a deep sigh. “Ugh, fine. But at least wear a friendlier expression.”

It’s not working. His small, strained smile somehow makes him look ten times more evil. It has to be on purpose at this point.

“Okay, never do that again. Just open the snack and lay it out for her,” you groan.

He does, and finally, Cheesecake comes hopping over. She casts Levi a quick glance that thankfully looks more curious than distrustful, before devouring the food like there’s no tomorrow.

Levi looks down at her, attentively listening to her loud chewing noises with a mildly repulsed frown.

“Good. Very good,” you nod. “Now encourage her. Compliment her.”

He side-eyes you. “She doesn’t need any more encouragement. Look at her. She’s acting like she hasn’t eaten in five days, the ungrateful brat.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, God forbid she enjoys your snack. What a monster.” You poke his arm. “C’mon, just do it. Tell her she’s doing a good job.”

“…Good job…. Cheesecake....”

“Less ominously. My God, can’t you at least pretend?”

He scowls. “Fine.” He looks down at her, observes her for a bit, then manages to turn his voice into a surprisingly neutral tone. “Good job, Cheesecake.”

To your utter shock, Cheesecake looks up at him, meows, and rubs her head against the side of his leg.

Your eyes widen. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod it worked!”

Levi, meanwhile, doesn’t seem to share your excitement. His nose scrunches up in distaste. “Ugh. Now I’m gonna have to deal with your cat spreading her germ-infested fur all over me.”

You laugh. “Oh, this is just great. ”

Much to Levi’s dismay, Cheesecake follows him across the room. He tries to finish dusting the bookshelf, but she keeps rubbing up against his leg.

He scowls at her. “What do you want from me?”

You sink into the couch and try not to look too pleased by his suffering. “She wants you to pet her.”

“And what if I don’t want to?”

“Sucks for you. She’ll keep rubbing up against you, and eventually, she’ll end up meowing until you finally relent. She’s used to getting what she wants.”

He clicks his tongue in irritation. “Fine. How do I pet it?”

“First of all, her pronouns are she, not it. Second of all, come here.” You pat the spot beside you on the couch. “I’ll teach you.”

He gives you a wary look, but doesn’t protest as he joins you on the couch.

“Okay. So,” you start. “I’ll just show you how to do it first, and then you can try it yourself.” Slipping into the high-pitched voice one inevitably succumbs to when addressing kitties, you call out, “Psst psst. Cheesecake! Come here.”

She trots over and hops into your lap, immediately finding your raised hand and rubbing her head against it. You massage the underside of her jaw, which makes her purr and close her eyes in bliss.

“Since she doesn’t know you very well yet, you should let her sniff your fingers first,” you explain. “Once she’s gotten your scent and starts rubbing her head against your hand, you’re good to pet her. She loves scritches under her jaw and chin, and she’s a big fan of forehead massages too.” You gently rub her small forehead, then trail your hand down the length of her fluffy body. “You should stroke her back as well. Just make sure to follow the direction of her fur. And,” you add, glancing at him pointedly, “I know you’re ridiculously strong, so keep yourself in check. Don’t pet too hard.”

Levi watches you in silence, his grey eyes taking in your every move. However, once you’re done with your demonstration, he makes no move to mimic you. He doesn’t call her over or reach out for her. In fact, he looks like he’s about to flee, but Cheesecake seems determined to prevent that. She steps toward him, sniffs his hand, then presses her head into his palm.

Levi hesitates, then makes a half-assed attempt, petting her with the enthusiasm of someone being drafted for war. You can’t help but smile. His distress is a healing balm to your soul.

“See?” you purr, a tinge of evil coating your voice. “She loves you.”

He quickly glances at you. Then again, doing a double-take. “Why do I have a feeling you tricked me into this? This won’t help get her off me at all, will it?”

All he receives in response is a villainous laugh.

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You’re working from home today, sipping on a steaming cup of coffee behind your laptop on the kitchen island. Soft rain taps against the floor-to-ceiling windows. It’s perfect white noise to concentrate on work, except you’re not concentrating on work at all.

Your eyes are on Levi, who is making apple butter cinnamon rolls with crispy caramel flakes upon your request. He’s wearing your old green cooking apron over his black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Cheesecake purrs and rubs her head against his calf while he kneads the dough, his back facing you. The sight makes you smile.

Your stare doesn’t go unnoticed. When he turns to grab more flour, his eyes fall on you.

He pauses. “What are you looking at?”

“You.” An insufferable lopsided smile catches your mouth.  “You look so adorably domestic.”

“Shut up.”

“Confession: every night after returning from work, I feel like a rich wife coming home to her domestic stay-at-home husband. It’s great. The only thing that’s missing is an allowance. Should I get you an allowance? So you can buy random things you want, most of which will hopefully be gifts for me.”

He glowers at you. “I don’t need an allowance.”

“I insist.” You slip out your bankcard from your bag and hold it out to him between two fingers. “Why don’t you go buy yourself something nice, pretty?”

He flicks your hand away. “Fuck off. I don’t need your physical bankcard to buy anything.”

“I know. I’ve just always wanted to do that. The bankcard adds that bit of je-ne-sais-quoi.”

He shoots you a glare. “Don’t you have a meeting to prepare?”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

He looks at the clock hanging on the wall. “You have exactly thirty minutes. Get to work.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll never buy you caramel cookies again.”

Your eyes widen. “What?! No! You can’t do that!”

“I can and I will if you don’t get to work right this second.

He isn’t impressed by your pouty lips, so you have no choice but to oblige. With deep reluctance, you open up your presentation, although the prospect of spending another thirty minutes on it is about as appealing as a molding sock.

Miraculously, you survive the meeting, although it evaporates some of your will to live. What’s more: you have another presentation tomorrow, one you’re not looking forward to either. It’s the very reason you’ve asked Levi to make you apple butter cinnamon rolls in the first place. Mental health is important during rough weeks like these, and your long, wise years on this earth have taught you that the toughest battles are best fought with butter and sugar.

Feeling incredibly sorry for yourself, you continue working, but your suffering is quickly forgotten when the rich scent of baking cinnamon rolls wafts through the air. From your spot on the barstool, you watch the delicious pastries expand in the oven. It makes your mouth water uncontrollably.

A green apron with two dancing cookies and a winking cupcake suddenly blocks your view.

“Focus.”

Your gaze flicks up to meet Levi’s. “You’ve got some flour on your nose. It makes you look ridiculously adorable, by the way.”

He swipes it away with his thumb and narrows his eyes. “As long as the pastries are still in the oven, I don’t want to see your eyes off the screen.”

You briefly consider acting bratty for the sheer pleasure of annoying him, but decide he’s being too good today. Instead, you shoot him a cheeky smile. “Yes, sir.”

When you finally shut down your laptop an hour later, Levi slides a plate of warm, juicy cinnamon rolls toward you. You gasp in excitement, then gasp again when he sets down a big mug of hot drink, generously capped with whipped cream.

You blink. “What’s that?”

“A Honey Cinnamon Latte with whipped cream and sprinkles of nutty sugar flakes. Without caffeine, because you need a proper night of sleep.” He hesitates at your stunned shock. “It’s your favorite, right? Or did I not get that right?”

A surge of unexpected emotion wells up in your chest, clogging your throat. Before you think better of it, you jump off your stool, round the table, and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

He freezes, standing as straight and as still as a wooden plank. “What are you doing?”

You tighten your grip on him. “Hugging you. You made my favorite drink, without me asking. I can’t believe it. Thank you, Levi.”

He bristles in your arms. “This is a bit of an unnecessary reaction, no?”

“Not at all. ” You break the hug and scan his face. “In fact, are you sure you’re alright? This is already the second time you’ve done something nice for me out of your own volition this week. I feel like we need to get that checked out. I’m worried about you.”

He steps back. “Piss off. I can be nice.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Besides, I made that drink to reward you for being less unbearable than usual today. Don’t take it so personally.”

You lift a brow. “So you’re training me like a dog?”

“Something like that.”

“Hmmmmm.” You return to your seat and cast him a contemplative look. “Or maybe you’re slowly growing fond of Cheesecake and me. You just don’t want to admit it.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Whatever helps you feel better about yourself.”

Smiling, you take a generous bite of apple butter cinnamon roll and nearly cum on the spot. The crispy caramel flakes crunch deliciously in your mouth, while the dough seems to melt like butter. Through mouthfuls of delicious pastry, you moan, “God damn. You’re an insanely good cook, holy shit.”

His face twists. “Stop talking while chewing. It’s gross.”

“Sorry.”

“I said stop.”

His furrowed brows only makes you laugh.

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God, you hate performance meetings with Fred. They’re not meetings so much as autopsies: every minor mistake is laid out on the table and dissected long after it should’ve been dead and buried. “Positive feedback” isn’t in Fred’s vocabulary. Neither is context. No matter how hard you work, he only ever seems to remember the typo from three months ago or the deadline you missed after he moved it up twice and forgot to tell you.

Any explanation you offer is twisted and handed back to you as evidence of your own incompetence. By the end of it, his impossible timelines and lack of direction have somehow become your personal failings, and you leave the room wondering how you managed to apologize for problems you didn’t create.

If it wasn’t for your fun colleagues who hate that scummy cockroach with equal burning passion, you would’ve quit your job a long time ago. Which, admittedly, would’ve been for the better, because routinely coming home with tense shoulders and exhausted eyes can’t be healthy. If Levi wasn’t there to keep your apartment clean and your stomach full with delicious meals every day, you’d be drowning in tears and self-pity by now.

You enter your apartment after an icy walk home, the air turning warm with the scent of delicious candles as you step inside. Ever since you asked Levi to keep the place as candle-lit as possible to combat your seasonal depression, he’s been scouring the market for the most irresistible fragrances. His preference seems to be the softer ones: the kind that somehow remind you of lazy sunny mornings, fluffy blankets, and gentle dreams. It relaxes your body the moment you step inside and close the door.

“How was it today?” Levi asks from his spot on the couch. He glances back at you over the couche’s headrest, then frowns. “Well, shit. You look even moodier than usual.”

“I  nearly died.” You hang your wet coat by the door with gritted teeth. “Have I ever told you about Fred? How horrible he is?”

“Yes. 53 times in the past two months, to be exact.”

“I hate him!” You dump your bag on the kitchen island with way too much force. “God, I hate him so much. I don’t want to go to work tomorrow.”

Levi shrugs. “Then don’t. Just call in sick.”

“Fred will collapse from a heart-attack if I miss tomorrow’s international monthly meeting.”

“One can hope.”

You snort. You’re about to subject Levi to an in-depth analysis of Fred’s rotten evilness and his striking resemblance to the Plague and gonorrhoea, when your eyes fall on the sink.

You freeze.

Impossible—!

You approach the sink, eyes wide. “Levi?… Is that…. a dish in the sink…?”

Panic clenches your lungs. This can’t be…?! Levi has never left a dish in the sink. Nothing short of an apocalypse would distract him from his cleaning urges.

The only reply you receive is a sigh. You whip around to look at him, but he isn’t even looking at you. He stares ahead at the TV — which is turned off — his back facing you like he can’t bear to meet your gaze.

You stride toward him, worry etched into your face. “Levi, are you… okay? Are you glitching? Malfunctioning? Do we need to get you to DroidTech services for a checkup? Let me check your temperature. Maybe your internal processors are overheating—”

You’re about to reach out to touch his forehead, when your gaze lands on the real culprit.

Cheesecake is curled up in Levi’s lap, all pure white fluff and tucked-in paws, fast asleep.

Levi finally meets your eyes then, jaw tense. “She’s keeping me hostage.”

You blink, then burst out into giggles. “How did this even happen?”

Levi groans. “She just wouldn’t stop with the incessant meowing, so I paused the cleaning for a second to pet her and calm her down. Before I knew it, she just…. fell asleep. Didn’t know what to do after that.”

“Awwwwwwwwhhhhhhh.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“This is just too cute. I need to take a picture of this.”

“Go away.”

He looks like he wants to slap the phone out of your hands, but he doesn’t, because he’s held hostage and can’t move. You manage to snap a picture just in time before Cheesecake stirs from all the havoc. She yawns and stretches, arching her back and extending her little paws on Levi’s lap. She casts you and Levi a disoriented look, then jumps off his lap to rub her head against your calf.

“Good. Now that this crisis has been handled…” Levi gets up and dusts his shirt, looking more than a little displeased by the number of white hairs falling off. “I’ve got things to do. Move.”

He sidesteps you and disappears into the hallway, just to reappear with a clean grey shirt. The dish you spotted in the sink is promptly placed in the dishwasher, then washed as he starts the machine. He begins hastily rummaging through the kitchen cabinets.

“Levi, come here.”

“I don’t have time. I have a whole meal to cook, and it’s already seven. And yes, I blame your spoiled cat.”

“Listen, why don’t we just relax for a night? I’ll order takeout. You don’t need to cook.”

He glares at you. “You’re just saying that so you don’t have to deal with my fussing.”

“No — I mean yes, a little, but… I’m serious. I got held hostage by Fred today, and you got held hostage by Cheesecake. We’ve both suffered enough. Let’s just have a fun, lazy night, okay? I’ll order food for myself, and we’ll just do something fun to get our minds off.”

He leans back against the kitchen sink, arms crossed. “Like what?”

A slow grin starts to form as an idea pops up. “I have a bunch of old board games and card games I haven’t touched in years. Why don’t we put them to good use?”

The idea itself is lovely: board games in soft candlelight on your kitchen island, a pretty view of the starry night sky beside you, hearts full of giggles and laughter as you two bond during a cozy winter night.

The reality…… not so much.

You forgot how many board games and card games rely on strategic calculations and statistics, and that robots are disgustingly good at strategic calculations and statistics. You also forgot how competitive you are. And how mercilessly rude Levi can be.

He beats you again and again. By the fifth time, you nearly pop a vein from pure rage.

“Wrong move,” he says flatly. He drops the cards on the table for you to see. “I win. Again.”

“URGH!” you growl.

“God, you’re ass at this game.”

You almost commit Android murder then and there. It would be well deserved. Restraining your violent rage, you manage to grind out through gritted teeth, “Let’s play something else. I want to play videogames.”

Because although his calculating skills vastly surpass yours, surely, his hand control can’t be that good. Yes, he told you Android models like him are pretty dexterous, but playing first-person-shooter games well on a console requires extremely precise finger control and sharp strategic reflexes, the kind that take waaaaay too many hours of practice to master. You would know. Yes, sure, Levi can control his digits precisely enough to perform any domestic chore, but console gaming is not on the dexterity level of domestic chores.

Luckily, your gamble pays: you win game after game. It’s an excellent feeling. You make sure to rub it in and remind him how much he sucks ass at every possible opportunity.

He doesn’t entertain your bullying, though. Instead of getting angry at you like you want him to, he just focuses harder. His mode of revenge seems to be the quiet kind.

Several games in, he suddenly wins.

It must be luck.

… It’s not luck.

He loses, then wins again. Twice. Then loses again. Then wins.

Then wins again. And again. Fuck. He’s catching up.

“I guess you’re improving quite well,” you manage to admit without dry-heaving.

Levi, ever the sunshine, says he can’t say the same about you. Good for the self-esteem, that man. Keeps you humble.

It doesn’t take long before he becomes outrageously good. Eventually, inevitably, you ragequit under the pretense that “you’re tired” (you’re not).

Levi sees right through you. When you get up to turn off the console, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Not so mouthy now, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“You really thought you were going to come out of this victorious. It’s cute.”

“I don’t want to hear you speak. Go charge in your station.”

His amusement only spikes. A full smirk lifts his mouth. If he wasn’t your arch-enemy currently, you could maybe admit it looks a little bit very sexy. He leans back to watch you with that arrogant expression of his, arms spread over the headrest of the couch. The movement lifts the corner of his grey shirt, revealing a tiny slit of toned skin. The small flutter this incites in your stomach is not okay. This man must be stopped immediately.

“Go on then,” you urge. “Go switch to standby mode. You’re not needed anymore.”

He chuckles and gets up, stepping lazily to his charging station.  

“Good night,” he says, sounding way too amused by your grumpiness.

The moment he steps inside, the charging station turns on. A familiar bright ring forms on his temple, a soft blue current amid the warm candlelight of the room.

To your utter dismay, the fluttering feeling doesn’t go away. You tell yourself those must surely be flutters of rage. Still, you catch yourself staring at Levi a little too long. Longer than someone should when facing their gaming rival.

Eventually, you decide you've stared enough. With a soft sigh, you blow out the candles and go to bed, where you slowly fall into warm dreams of a certain teasing Android.

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To combat his terrible desire to glide his palms over your bare skin and discover what you feel like under his touch, he turns back to scrubbing the TV stand, which is already stupidly clean.

“Leviiii,” you whine helplessly. “Can’t you try to repair the AC yourself? You’re a robot. Don’t robots understand each other?”

“Right. I’ll just tell it to get its shit together in our shared robot dialect.”

“C’monnn, I didn’t mean it like that. What I mean is that you’re kind of a genius, right? Don’t you know how to fix home appliances?”

He flings you an annoyed glance over his shoulder. “No, I wasn’t made to fix AC systems. Besides, I already took a look, and it doesn’t seem like it’ll be an easy fix. I’m pretty sure the system will have to be partly replaced, and only technicians from your AC company can do that.” He turns around to properly watch you, doing his best to keep his gaze from wandering over your half-naked body. “Why don’t you just call them and tell them it’s urgent?”

“I already tried,” you groan. “They just passive-aggressively repeated they’re fully booked until next week. They told me it’s urgent for everyone else too, considering we’re in the middle of an insane heatwave. Basically, they professionally told me to shut up.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

You moan out a complaint, and Cheesecake joins in, meowing incessantly. She lies beside you on the couch, looking just as miserable.

“I know, babygirl,” you pout while stroking Cheesecake’s fluffy white fur. “It’s hell, but we’re in this together.”

Levi hopes that’s the end of it, but it’s not. You and Cheesecake keep moaning and mewling like you’re the two most tormented souls to inhabit the earth.

Once his patience is at its last remaining thread, Levi turns around and grumbles, “Why don’t you go for a swim or something? Before I shut down to escape all your whiny complaints.”

You gasp and shoot upright. “Oh my god! Wait— that’s actually such a good idea! You’re a genius! We should go to the lake.”

“The lake?”

“Yes! There’s a really pretty lake I discovered two summers ago. It’s more than an hour drive away, but it’s sooo worth it. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”

“Probably because you tend to forget that leaving your apartment out of your own volition is an option.”

You sigh. “Am I really that bad?”

“Yeah.”

Not that Levi minds, of course. He loves having you around 99% of the time — today being the exception.

With newfound energy, you storm into the bedroom to pack a bag with swimwear, spare clothes, towels, and god knows what else. In the meantime, Levi packs a picnic basket with sandwiches, a fresh salad, a bowl of strawberries, and icy orange juice.

Ten minutes later, you step out of the hallway in a soft summer dress and a large shoulder bag, looking frustratingly beautiful. The dress suits you annoyingly well, and for a moment of insanity, Levi imagines pulling you close, kissing your neck, descending his lips down your shoulder, and pulling down the shoulder strap with his mouth. He pictures slowly undressing you and cherishing your body, whispering against your soft, warm skin that he’s forever yours, and you’re his, until you’re a mess of bliss and want.

He banishes the thought as fast and as viciously as it came. What the fuck. He’s not yours, and you’re certainly not his, and what the hell is his mind doing? These fantasies need to stop.

You frown. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Levi says much too quickly. His attention falls on Cheesecake, who appears beside you wearing a lilac harness. He frowns. “Why is she wearing a harness?”

“Why do you think?” You grin at him and crouch down to secure a leash onto the back of the harness.

“You’re taking Cheesecake with you?”

“Of course! I’m not gonna leave her here to be baked alive. Besides, you’ll be surprised to know that she really likes water for a cat. She even enjoys a swim when it’s really hot, though it’s probably mostly to hunt fish.”

“I see,” Levi hums. With quick efficiency, he adds cat food, a container of water, and Cheesecake’s favorite snack to the picnic basket, before handing it all to you. “Here’s your lunch. Both of your lunches.”

Your eyes widen, your growing grin brightening the sun. You rummage through the basket and jump in joy. “Oh this is going to be an amazing day! This looks delicious! Thank you so much, Levi.”

He nods, then watches with a familiar ache as you step towards the door with Cheesecake.

While unlocking the door, you turn around to throw him an expectant look. “You coming?”

“What?”

“Oh shit. Do you still need to pack? Sorry, I assumed you were ready.”

Levi hesitates. “… You want me to come with you?”

This earns him a puzzled look. “Of course.”

“Why?”

A mix of confusion and astonishment settles across your brow. “What do you mean, ‘why’? I’m not leaving you here to overheat.”

He scoffs. “I’m not going to overheat. Worst case, I’ll switch to stand-by mode.”

“Regardless, I want you come with us. I enjoy your company. Why would I leave you here?”

For a moment, Levi can only stare as your words sink in. He knows you’ve grown fond of him over the past six months — that much is obvious — but considering you insisted on never developing a real emotional bond with an Android the day you purchased him, he’s still surprised by your offer. Maybe spending time together has made you forget about your own rules, the same way being around you has made him overwrite his.

Your lips quirk up. “So? Are you coming?”

Levi can’t help but smile a little. “Yeah.”

After an hour in a small, old, crappy car that is surely on the point of collapsing, you somehow make it to your destination. Levi spends a chunk of the ride interrogating you about the suspicious dents littering your car, much to your irritation. You swear they were already there when you bought the car, but Levi isn’t sure he believes you. Regardless, you manage to reach your destination unscathed, although you nearly run over an innocent pedestrian underway.

“Stop judging me,” you grumble while turning off the engine in a tiny parking lot shaded by towering trees. “I rarely drive, okay? I always take public transport to work.”

“Clearly.” Levi scoffs.

You step out of the car and grab Cheesecake from the backseat. “Can you go one day without insulting me?”

“I didn’t insult you. I merely supported your claim.”

“Hmpf.”

Nose in the air, you cross the parking lot to enter the forest ahead, Cheesecake trotting beside you. Levi follows right behind carrying the picnic basket, although he’s too enthralled by his surroundings to be either annoyed or amused by your brattiness.

Aside from the tiny parking lot and the narrow road that twists between tall trees and grassy plains behind him, everything is a mosaic of bright greens, glowing and alive. A gentle summer breeze rustles the woods ahead, and cheerful birdsong fills the air. It’s mesmerising. Hypnotizing, even, because all Levi has ever known is the city. He has never seen open grassy fields like the one stretching behind the road, or endless forests like the one waiting ahead.

The smell is vastly different than in the city, too. He recognizes the scents of old wood, damp earth, crushed leaves releasing green sap, and the faint mineral scent of damp stone, although he also detects a bunch of fragrances that are completely unfamiliar to him.

His awe-struck stare doesn’t go unnoticed. When his gaze lands on you, waiting by a narrow dirt path that twists between the trees, he finds that all your irritation has melted away, replaced by amusement and joy.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you beam. “I forgot I’ve never shown you the countryside before. We’re always stuck in that concrete city of ours.”

“Why don’t you leave the city more often?” Levi asks as he scans all the different types of trees surrounding you, many of which were saved in his database during his initial set up, in case he’d ever be purchased for gardening services. So far, he recognises oak trees, maple trees, beech trees, chestnut trees, and pine trees.

Your smile falters the tiniest bit at his question. “I’m not sure. I guess there aren’t many people I want to leave the city with.”

“With me being the exception, I hope?” Levi asks while shrinking the space between you two. Once again, it strikes him all over how beautifully summery you look.

Your smile brightens. “Obviously.”

Comfortable quietness settles between you two as you enter the woods. While following the dirt path meandering between towering trees, Levi’s analytic curiosity can’t help but take the forefront. He starts mapping and classifying each smell, which, much to your amusement, often requires abandoning the path to sniff at trees, plants, and fungi. He discovers the smell of resin seeping from tree barks, the cool and clean fragrance of moss, the soft sweetness of wildflowers he’s never seen before, and the sharper scents of mushrooms and decaying leaves.

His thorough inspection earns him several loud giggles, which he secretly doesn’t mind because he actually really likes your giggles.

At least, until you have the audacity to formulate your next abomination of a sentence: “You’re almost like a dog, sniffing every new discovery you stumble across.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Or like a puppy. Feels more accurate. An adorable puppy I want to hug.”

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear you speak anymore.”

Levi’s irritation does nothing to dim your joy. You keep laughing and teasing him, unbothered by his snappy, exasperated replies.

It takes 39 minutes to reach the lake, thanks to Levi’s time-consuming investigations. And Cheesecake’s. That nosy kitty is just as bad as Levi, stopping to sniff every unfamiliar fragrance she crosses.

But the long walk is more than worth it, because the lake is stunning. It’s not particularly huge, but it’s calm, dreamy, and untouched. It’s surrounded by thick trees and beautiful open patches of sunlit grass dotted by wildflowers, which occasionally sway in the warm summer breeze.

Levi has never seen a place so beautiful. Which, in itself, is rather strange. He doesn’t think he’s supposed to find nature particularly beautiful. Why would he, as an Android? Yet, his surroundings have an oddly calming effect. Maybe he resembles humans more than he thinks.

With a blissful sigh, you place a large yellow towel in a flowery spot shaded by a tall oak tree. You give Cheesecake’s leash to Levi, then pull your dress off in one fluid motion, revealing a burgundy bikini. It suits you, like every other piece of clothing you own — except for that horrendous orange Teletubbies sweater you always insist on wearing at home, which Levi has insulted exactly 41 times since his arrival.

Doing his best not to stare at you, Levi places the picnic basket beside your towel and lowers himself onto the grass. With a soft purr, Cheesecake walks over and rubs her head lovingly against his knee.

You place your dress in your bag and flash Levi a bright smile, looking as beautiful and radiant as your surroundings. “You coming?”

He lifts a brow. “You know I can’t swim, right?”

“Oh! Right. I forgot. But honestly, it doesn’t matter. The lake isn’t deep. See that tree right there?” You point at a swaying willow tree in the distance. “Up until that point, the water is only chin-deep. Once you reach past that point it gets deeper, but not by much.” Your gaze sweeps slowly over Levi’s body. “You’re not wearing swimwear, but that’s okay. Your shorts will dry in no time in this heat. And you’re waterproof, right?”

“Yeah. At least, when I activate waterproof mode.”

“Perfect! Come on, let’s go cool off.” You grab his hand in an attempt to pull him up, completely forgetting how heavy he is as an Android. Levi smiles a little, finding your grunting efforts quite endearing. After a brief second of watching you struggle, he gets to his feet.

Unsurprisingly, his fluid movement catches you by surprise, nearly sending you toppling back. Levi steadies you instantly, his hand firm at the small of your back. Your gaze snaps to his. Your cheeks warm as your hand lands on his bicep for balance.

You falter, clearly grappling for words, but in the brief stretch of silence, Levi’s advanced receptors catch everything your words fail to communicate: the quickening of your heartbeats, the subtle hitch in your breathing, the heat radiating from your body. His proximity flusters you, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. It’s one of his favorite things about you: how deliciously physically responsive you are. It briefly makes him wonder how responsive you’d be if he touched you just a little more. If he explored your more sensitive spots.

You quickly release his arm. “Sorry about that!” you blurt out a little too loudly. “God, I’m clumsy sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” Levi slowly slides his hand off your bare back, letting it linger longer than he should.

You swallow thickly and abruptly turn around to head to the lake, your voice turning much too chippery and high-pitched. “Anyway! Let’s go swim now.”

Levi stifles a smile while taking his shirt off and quietly following you towards the water.

The lake is calm, reflecting thick trees and the sunny, cloudless sky like a mirror, only slightly disturbed by the summer breeze and your careful steps as you enter the water. The ripples refract the sunlight like little diamonds twinkling over the surface, and the beauty of it all fills Levi with quiet awe.

He steps into the lake with Cheesecake following by his side, and stares at his feet as coolness engulfs his skin. The water is beautifully clear, distorting sand and flat stones underneath, which shimmer in the sun. Slowly, he steps deeper, revelling in the feeling.

Cheesecake, on the other hand, is hesitant. She seems content simply drinking and sniffing the water.

That is, until you walk up to her and clip off the leash from her harness. Your gaze briefly catches on Levi’s shirtless chest, but you quickly look away and redirect your attention to the cat.

With a high-pitched voice, you exclaim, “Come on Cheesecake! It’s swim time! There are fishies in the lake. You’re gonna loooove it!”

To Levi’s astonishment, it works. The fluffy white furball overcomes her hesitance and ventures in further. It takes a minute, but eventually, she follows you to where the water is deep enough to swim in.

You cheer and coax her even deeper into the water, giggling brightly and remaining by her side. Occasionally, Cheesecake swims into your arms so you can pick her up and give her a swim break, but overall, the cat seems to love swimming.

Levi can’t help but stare. “I can’t believe your cat swims willingly.”

“Amazing, right?” Your smile is so joyful and bright that another pang of ache seizes Levi’s chest. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful than your happiness, and it has a devastating effect on him. He hates it, but he’s also addicted to the feeling.

Trying to distract himself, he steps deeper into the water until it reaches his chest. The coolness soothes his body, which has been working far too hard today to keep his critical systems within safe thermal limits. Gradually, everything within him relaxes, his cooling fluids slowing their relentless pumping and his thermal regulators easing in response.

You seem to be enjoying the coolness just as much. After handing Cheesecake to Levi to hold and watch, you plunge into the water, laughing with joy. You swim around, floating on your back, eyes on the sky with a peaceful smile, looking untouchable and mesmerizingly free.

Meanwhile, Levi is fucking dying. He’s pathetically entranced, but he can’t do anything to stop it. He simply can’t look away. Thank god he’s engulfed in cool water. Otherwise, he’d surely have gone into critical overheating by now.

For a moment, as he watches you, he wishes he were human. He wishes you two had met under different circumstances. He wishes everything were different. Fuck, this pathetic pining is rough sometimes.

Once Cheesecake is utterly spent from swimming, Levi picks her up and heads back to the spot under the tree, because he doesn’t think he can handle watching you any longer — all sunsoaked skin and beautiful happiness. It’s not good for his cognitive equilibrium.

It doesn’t help much, though. You’re still there, in the water, looking like everything Levi wants but can’t have. He still can’t stop watching. Even Cheesecake, who is purring, licking her soaked fur in the sun, and trying to catch his attention, isn’t enough to distract him.

Eventually, you step out of the water, body dripping wet. Levi has to look away.

“Oh man. This is my favorite day ever,” you sigh blissfully while dropping down on your yellow towel. “Why exactly haven’t we done this before?”

“Because you—”

“Sssh. Don’t say it. Enough with calling me a couch potato.”

Levi side-eyes you. “Don’t say it isn’t true. Maybe if you finally admit you have a problem, I’ll agree to help you overcome your bedrotting habits.”

You fish out a sandwich from the picnic basket and take a generous bite, eyes on him. “You’d just order me around like a military general.”

“Probably. But at least you’d stop scrolling your life away.”

You hum while swallowing down a bite. “Sounds tempting. What would you get me to do once I’ve transcended my never-ending-couch-potato form and turned into a functional adult?”

Levi plucks a daisy and twirls it between his fingers as he thinks your question through. After a moment, he says, “Leaving the city on sunny weekends would be a good start. Also, I’d push you to travel from time to time.” He throws you a judgy glance. “Don’t think I haven’t seen your little travel bucket list.”

You freeze right as you’re about to take another bite of your sandwich. “Where did you find that?!”

“It fell behind your bed, along with a disgusting amount of dust, used tissues, and other garbage.”

You have the decency to look ashamed. “Oops. Okay, well, that explains why I haven’t gotten around to it yet. I just couldn’t find my list.”

“Hmm. You won’t get away with those kinds of lame excuses under my regime.”

Bright laughter bubbles out of you. “Regime, huh? Okay mister Emperor. And where would we go first, then? Any place you’d like to see in particular?”

Levi pauses, hesitating. “Any place I’d like to see? Why is that relevant?”

You frown. “I’m not dragging you to a place you have no interest in seeing. I’m not a monster, you know?”

For a moment, Levi can only stare. “….You’d take me with you to travel?”

“I mean, why not?” You shrug nonchalantly while taking a sip of orange juice, but Levi can easily detect the heat rising up your face. “Someone needs to carry my luggage and go grocery shopping for me, no?”

Levi clicks his tongue and throws the daisy he’s been twirling right into your face, making you dodge with a laugh.

“Wait, hold on!” You gasp mid-laugh. “Speaking about bucket-lists, do you know what I’ve been wanting to do for ages, and that we could do right now?”

Levi flings you a flat look. “Do I even want to know?”

“Yes, because you’ll love it too. I’ve always wanted to lazily row a boat in a quiet, pretty, sunny lake. Just floating around, vibing and absorbing the peaceful quietness around me.”

Levi cocks a brow. “And how exactly do you plan on getting a boat?”

“Well, actually, there’s another lake not too far away. It’s much bigger, and it’s also much more popular, which is why I never go there. In the summer, there are always people swimming, playing watersports, or rowing little wooden boats. The boats can be rented from a little rental shack by the lake, which I’ve always wanted to do, but I’ve never gotten around to it.”

“Well… if that lake is as busy as you say, I don’t think we’ll be able to check off your bucket-list. You seem pretty adamant on the peaceful quietness of it all.”

A malicious smile creeps up your face. “I have a solution for that.”

To no one’s surprise, your solution is Levi. Although the boat is small, it’s really heavy for human standards, but luckily, Levi carries it with relative ease. The entire walk from the boat rental to the quiet lake, you beam and fawn about how strong he is, while he rolls his eyes at your fangirling theatrics.

The fangirling theatrics worsen by the minute, courtesy of the big bottle of apple cider you picked up from a bar near the boathouse. By the time you, Levi, and Cheesecake finally return to the undiscovered lake, Levi’s body is straining to regulate his temperatures. He dumps the boat into the water and heads to the picnic spot by the large oak tree, ready to rest in the shade while you and Cheesecake go on your little boat adventure.

Unfortunately, you’re not having it. You demand he joins, arguing this will be an enriching experience, and surely, Levi must be brimming with curiosity about going on a boat for the first time.

“Not really,” he counters flatly.

But your begging is ceaseless. Levi can’t tell whether it’s the alcohol or your insistent personality, but either way, he has a hard time saying no to you. Also, he doesn’t know if he trusts you steering a boat by yourself with alcohol in your veins. You may not be drunk, but you’re definitely a little tipsy, and the hint of protectiveness this awakens in him leaves him no choice but to follow you into the burning sun.

A burning sun he really should be avoiding, by the way.

With more than a bit of reluctance, he steps into the boat. He uses two wooden paddles to push it away from the shore, sending it wobbling over the quiet, sunlit lake. For a moment of silent awe, Levi forgets his compromising position. Instead, he focuses on his surroundings: the chirping birds, the cloudless sky, the leaves faintly rustling in the warm summer breeze, and the occasional soft creak of wood as the boat glides over the glassy surface of the lake, softly rippling the water below. It’s all strangely beautiful.

Across from him, you sit with Cheesecake tucked close to your side, your fingers moving absently through her soft fur. The cat watches the water with fascination, eyes bouncing over the lake’s surface and ears twitching now and then. You look just as taken by your surroundings, although your gaze is on the hazier side. A relaxed sigh escapes your lips, and Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen you more peaceful and content.

… Which Levi has every intention of ruining by reminding you of his displeasure. Partly because he’s still a little annoyed, partly because watching you in this peaceful, radiant state is becoming too much to bear.

“If the boat flips over,” Levi says dryly, “and I sink to the bottom of the lake, I’ll never speak to you again. Even if I somehow manage to walk my way back underwater.”

“Don’t worry,” you coo. “The boat won’t flip over. And as I said, most of the lake is not deep anyway.”

“You better be right.” He takes the wooden paddles and hands them to you. “Either way, you’ll do the paddling. I’m done supporting your lazy ass.”  

“Sure thing, princess.” You wink, a teasing smile lifting your lips.

It’s a bluff. After only five minutes of rowing, you start complaining about your biceps. Levi just looks at you, mildly amused by your display of suffering, but eventually, he takes over and starts rowing, because he’s feeling somewhat merciful today.

“Humans are such weak creatures,” he sighs while moving the little boat across the sunny lake.

“I’m not weak!” you retort.

“And weird, too.”

Your eyes narrow. “How are we weird?”

“Too many reasons to list.”

You squint even more. “Try me.”

“Alright. At that big lake, I counted twelve people literally burning themselves on purpose. Just lying there in the sun, soaked in their own sweat, skin reddening by the minute. It’s weird as hell. Why do humans do that?”

You exhale a pleased sigh and tilt your face towards the sun, eyes falling close in tipsy summer bliss. “I guess it can feel good to bake in the sun sometimes.”

“How? I literally saw blisters forming.”

You abruptly look at him, eyebrows knitting together. “We didn’t even get that close to them. You can see blisters from that far?”

“Ah. Right. I forgot humans have pathetically mediocre vision.”

You reach over the boat’s ledge and splash a handful of water onto him. Without missing a beat, Levi does the same, throwing water at you and making you dodge and shriek-giggle.

You’re about to dunk your hand in the water again, when Levi interrupts you with a truth you don’t want to hear: “You do know that getting splashed with cold water is not uncomfortable for me as it is for you, right? You’re not winning this game.”

“Ugh. This is so unfair,” you mutter. Defeated, you wipe your wet hands off your legs.

A ghost of a smile catches Levi’s mouth. “That’s another weird thing about humans. So unnecessarily competitive and hostile.”

“Says you. You’re as competitive as I am.”

“I don’t get mad when I lose a game.”

“That’s just because you’re too busy planning my demise," you retort, eyes narrowed. "You always purposefully get so good that I lose painfully hard.”

He shrugs. “I like seeing you all worked up. It’s funny.”

You flick another handful of water at him, but he doesn’t even flinch. Instead of attacking you back, he simply watches you with a growing smirk, just to piss you off a little more.

It works. Or at least, he thinks it does. Levi detects your heartbeat picking up ever so slightly, but you take a sip of apple cider and flick your gaze towards the lake, making it difficult to read your expression.

“What else do you think is weird about me?” you ask, eyes on the thick trees that slowly pass by.

“Let’s see….” Levi hums while rapidly compiling a monstrously long list. “You laugh at things you explicitly say aren’t funny. Each time you say you’re not hungry and refuse to eat, you tiptoe towards the kitchen a minute later to steal a bite anyway. When you complain about a problem you have, you refuse every single solution. You cry over fictional characters. You say you want novelty but always stick to your routines. You constantly watch online content that pisses you off. You talk to yourself all the time. You—”

“Okay okay, stop!” you yelp, looking mortified. “That’s enough judgment for today. Jeesh.”

“I’m not judging you,” Levi says, not missing the embarrassed heat radiating off your face. “It’s pretty endearing, actually.”

Pretty endearing is an understatement, but he’ll sooner self-destruct than confess he adores everything about you, including your strange habits.

You cross your arms, all stubborn childishness. “You’re not much better, you know? You’re weird too.”

Levi cocks a challenging brow. “Oh, am I? How, exactly?”

“To start, how are you not dying in this heat?” You squint at the harsh sun, then grab the hem of your dress to pull it off.

As you place the dress beside you, Levi’s eyes take in the burgundy bikini hugging your body and your bare skin glistening in the sun, before he quickly flicks his gaze back up. He wills it to stay there.

Forcing his mind back to the subject, he says, “I am, actually. My internal temperatures are flickering near warning thresholds as we speak.”

Your eyes widen. “What?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to, once it was actually going to start becoming a real problem.”

Your shocked expression turns into a frustrated, worried scowl. “Levi, you don’t just wait for things to turn into a problem. You should think preventatively.”

“Funny you say that. You never listen when I say the same thing about your procrastinating workhabits.”

“Shut up,” you grumble.

You lean over the boat to cup a handful of cool water, and for a moment, Levi thinks you’re going to throw it at him again, but you don’t. Instead, you step towards him and carefully squat down between his legs, making sure not to spill any water from your cupped hands. You slowly pour the cold water over each of his knees, letting the coolness trickle down his legs, before pushing up his shorts and pressing your cold hands against his thighs.

Your mouth drops at the sensation. “You’re burning!” you gasp. “Your skin is as hot as a goddamn stove.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “I’m not burning.”

“Yes, you absolutely are.”

Leaning over his leg, you fish out another handful of cool water and pour it over his thighs, before pressing your cold hands against his hot skin again.

He should probably do or say something, but he doesn’t know how to. He’s dangerously close to short-circuiting. He’s too struck by the sight of you squatted between his legs, gliding your cool hands over his skin, touching him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He hopes it’s just the summer heat turning his mind into a hot mess, but deep down, he doubts that has much to do with it.

Your eyes flick up to meet his. “Is it working?”

Pulling himself out of his haze, he runs a quick internal scan and nods. “Yeah. A little.”

You nibble on your lip in thought, gaze flicking down his torso. “Maybe you should take your shirt off.”

“You don’t need to look so hungry while saying that.”

He mainly says this to fluster and bully you, and fortunately, it works.

“I—I didn’t!” You stammer. “I wouldn’t!”

Levi lifts a brow for good measure. You squirm under his scrutinizing gaze, which he very much enjoys.

“I swear I’m an appropriate, respectful human being,” you counter helplessly. “I wouldn’t creep on you like that. You don’t have to take your shirt off. Keep it on. ”

Levi snorts and pulls his shirt off, ignoring your poor attempt at damage control. He folds it and throws it easily on top of your dress.

Your reaction is instant. Your gaze slides over his chest, his stomach, his shoulders, and his biceps. You look frozen in place, and Levi easily detects the rapid rise of your skin’s temperature.

Levi barely represses a smile. “An appropriate, respectful human being, huh?”

Your eyes immediately flick up to meet his. Your heart rate jumps. “Oh, I— sorry.”

Before Levi can tease you any further, you reach over the boat’s edge and pour cool water over his body. You don’t touch his chest, but you do spread the water over his shoulders, biceps, and back, not meeting his eyes as you do. Your heartbeats are rapid but not exactly frantic, although Levi can’t say the same about the cooling fluids running through his own body.

“Is it working?” you ask, voice hoarse.

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t mention that your proximity alone destabilizes his entire body, reversing much of your hard work.

Which gets approximately five hundred times worse when the wobbling boat makes you lose your balance, and Levi has to hold your hips to stabilize you.

Looking even more flustered, you pour another handful of cool water down his side, then press your cold fingers against his shoulders. “How do you cool yourself off anyway? It doesn’t look like you sweat.”

“I don’t sweat, but I have multiple other ways to thermoregulate. Most importantly, I have a sealed cooling fluid circulating inside my body.”

Your brows shoot up. “Cooling fluid?”

Levi nods. “It basically absorbs the heat from my critical parts, like my cognitive core and my power systems, and takes it away through micro-channels. I’m not going to bore you with details, but the heat is essentially transferred to my skin, which is why I feel warm to the touch. Often warmer than humans.”

“Wow…” you mutter. Carefully, you press a cold hand against his arm. “That’s really cool.”

“I’ve also got very small vents at the back of my neck and knees. Usually they’re closed, but when my temperatures reach a certain threshold, they open to release warm air.”

Your eyes widen a little. “You’ve got exhaust vents? Like a laptop? That so….”

Levi’s eyes narrow. “So what?”

“So…” You hesitate while fishing another handful of cool water from the lake. “… odd. You’ve got holes in your skin. It's a bit… disturbing, I guess? No offense, of course.”

He clicks his tongue. “Look who is talking. You are aware you’re covered with millions of pores, right? Also, humans literally leak everywhere when they get hot. It’s gross.”

“Ew. Don’t say it like that.”

“Why? It’s true.”

Your nose scrunches up in disgust. “Even if it is, don’t ever again use the term leaking everywhere to describe sweating, please.”

Levi huffs a dryly amused breath. “There it is. Another odd thing about humans: always disconnected and ashamed about their own anatomy.”

“You’re the one who called it gross,” you scowl.

He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean you have to agree. And it also doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the way human bodies thermoregulate. It’s a well-engineered system.”

“A well-engineered system,” you echo with an amused smile.

You dip your hands into the lake and carefully glide your wet palms over the top of Levi's chest, letting cool droplets trickle down his body. Gradually, as you follow the droplets with your eyes, your expression turns into intrigue, and something more heated.

“Does that mean you don’t cool off using evaporation at all?” you ask.

“Actually, I do,” Levi admits. “Most Androids from DroidTech have an evaporative oral system. When I get hot, I inhale cool air, let it circulate through my body to absorb heat, then exhale hot air. Since my mouth and throat are wet in the same way as humans, the airflow across those surfaces triggers some evaporation, which helps to cool off. That’s why my charging station has liquid reservoirs, by the way. Whenever a lot of evaporation has occured, I need to stock up.”

“Your mouth is wet?! And you have liquid reservoirs?” Your jaw is on the floor. Or on the boat. Whatever. Either way, you look utterly shocked.

Levi releases a deep exhale. “We’ve lived together for half a year now, and you didn’t know?”

“No! How should I have known?”

He shrugs. “Good point, I guess.”

“Wow....” You blink. “I’m flabbergasted, honestly. So like, you basically cool off the same way dogs do, then?”

Levi shoots you the most exasperated, annoyed, unamused look he can muster. “Right. Because dogs are well known for their air vents and sealed cooling fluids.”

“No, I mean the evaporation thingie. That’s why dogs pant, right? They can’t sweat, so they cool off by panting so that water evaporates from their mouths, which removes heat. I learned that in a biology class a long time ago. You essentially do the same thing, right?”

“First of all, this better be the last fucking time you compare me to a dog. Second of all, no, I’m not like a dog, because unlike dogs, my evaporative heat dissipation is just supplemental. My other cooling systems are way more important. I only pant when I’m really overheating, the same way humans pant when they’re physically overworked. I could probably go without it, and honestly, the main reason my mouth is like yours is the same reason the rest of my body looks so human: because DroidTech prides itself in creating Androids that are almost indistinguishable to humans.”

“Oh. Okay. Alright. I see. That’s… interesting.” Your gaze slowly falls to his lips. “So… your mouth feels like a human mouth?”

“Yeah. At least, it’s supposed to.”

“Wow. That’s crazy. How does DroidTech even do that?”

“Confidential information, I assume.”

Your gaze doesn’t leave his mouth. You get up and rise between Levi’s legs until you stand straight before him. Levi instinctively places his hands on either side of your legs to stabilize you in the wobbling boat, but you don’t seem preoccupied by your fragile balance. You’re fixated on his mouth. And when you wet your bottom lip, Levi finds himself fixated on yours, too.

“Can I…” you hesitate, swallowing thickly. “Can I feel? I’m really, really curious.”

Levi tenses. “And here I was, thinking you weren’t that drunk.”

“I’m not, I’m just…” You falter, nibbling your bottom lip in hesitation. “… Curious? Being a little bit tipsy always makes me extra curious. But if that makes you uncomfortable, please just say so. I’ll stop.”

“It’s fine,” Levi says, forcing his body language into lukewarm casualness. “Knock yourself out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Carefully, you place a hand on his jaw. Your thumb is feather soft as it slides from his cheek towards his mouth. When you trace the curve of his lower lip, slow and deliberate, Levi’s lips part instinctively. He exhales a soft rush of hot air, desperate to combat the heat and dizziness that bloom at the contact. You linger there, then gently hook your thumb at the corner of his mouth and draw it down, coaxing him open just a fraction more.

“Your lips are really soft,” you murmur, voice gentle and quiet despite your quickening heartbeats. “Not to sound like a creepy human, but I’m really impressed.”

“Thanks.” The word doesn’t come out as intended. Less dry and sarcastic, and far more breathless and weighted. Levi doesn’t trust himself to say anything else. He just looks up at you, while your gaze flickers between his eyes and his lips.

“Okay… I’m going to ask you something. Something really weird,” you say, voice a little hoarse as your eyes lock with his. “And you have every right to say no. I only want you to agree if you’re truly comfortable with it. It’s just… I’m just too curious for my own good. But not if it comes at the cost of your comfort, of course.”

“Should I be worried?” Levi manages.

“Maybe? I don’t know. It’s just— can I….” A beat of silence. “… Kiss you? Just a quick peck. For science. I want to see something. But only if you want to. No pressure, of course. I know it's a weird request, and I don't even know why I'm asking, honestly. Actually, you know what? Neverm—”

"It's fine," Levi interrupts. His body is nothing but a chaotic mess of frenzied electronics at this point, but nonetheless, he manages to compose his face into an illusion of neutrality. “Go ahead.”

“Really?” You swallow thickly. “You’re sure you’re okay with it?”

He nods. “Yeah. I don't mind.”

“It’s no big deal, right?” you ask, probably more to reassure yourself than anything else. “Just a scientific experiment. For funsies.”

Levi bites back a smile. “Yeah. For funsies.”

Your lips quirk up in amusement despite your visible nerves. Carefully, you tilt Levi’s chin and lean closer until your lips hover over his, your warm breaths brushing over his mouth.

Levi's power regulators flicker. His processors spike. Everything within him flutters as a strange resonance builds inside his body. Your lips brush across his, careful and gentle in a feather-like touch. Levi’s breathing picks up as his body strains to thermoregulate, and you must feel it, because instead of kissing him, you linger there. You let your hot exhales merge, noses touching, body heat melting together, taking in each other’s bodily responses in a moment of dizzying anticipation. After several frantic heartbeats, you finally press your lips against his.

At first, Levi doesn’t move. But when you softly kiss him again, he mimics your touch and kisses you back. Again, and again, and again. He should stop, but he can’t bring himself to, and you don’t pull away either. The kiss is gentle, hesitant, and probing, like a curious discovery neither of you wants to let go of.

‘Just a peck’ is long forgotten, and instead, you pull his lower lip between yours and softly brush your tongue across it. Barely restraining back a sound of pleasure, Levi responds in kind, gently biting your lip and kissing you a little harder.

He’s never done this, but he’s always been a really quick learner, and right now, there’s nothing in the world he wants to learn more than your mouth, your body, and all the ways you can make each other feel good. Because fuck, it feels good. Alarmingly good. Without thinking, he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you closer, letting his lips slant greedily over yours.

“Levi,” you whisper against his mouth, voice thick and throaty.

He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips.

It’s gasoline to a flame. The kiss deepens, and from one moment to the next, your bodies turn urgent and heated. You end up on his lap, straddling him, skin against wet skin, drumming heart against his frenzied central core. Your fingers rake through his hair as your arm wraps around his shoulder, tongue deliciously sliding against his as you pull him closer.

Six months of pent-up frustration pour out all at once. All pretense of i-don’t-cares and we’re-just-friendly-flatmates and this-is-just-a-science-experiment vanish in an instant. Morals and self-restraint are thrown out of the window.

It’s the kind of kiss for dark alleys and closed rooms, not for gentle boat rides under sunny skies and chirping birds, but Levi doesn’t care, and neither do you. The rising heat thrumming through his body has him panting into the kiss, the same way your hammering pulse has you heaving against his lips. He can’t stop kissing you. Can’t get enough. He didn’t think he could ever feel this way. Didn’t know desire could be so terrifyingly potent and addicting. Dizziness, hunger, and a rush of emotions engulf him entirely as he clasps your thighs and draws you closer, pulling your body flush against his.

You make a delicious sound against his lips, needy and breathless, and it drives him crazy. He fists your hair and kisses you more deeply, desperate to assuage a hunger he didn’t know he could possess. Something like uncontrolled primal need — completely foreign and unexplainable — has him wrapping his arms around your waist, tracing his thumb over the edge of your wet bikini, grabbing your hips to drag you into his body, and touching you all over.  He revels in the heat of your body, the softness of your skin, your erratic heartbeats, your heaving breaths, your fingers clawing his hair, the way your hips roll into him in desperate need, your—

You abruptly shoot back, scrambling off his lap. “Fuck!” you gasp.

You try to step back, but the boat is wobbly and so are your legs, so you end up falling back onto your seat, right beside Cheesecake.

You briefly stare at the cat in utter shock, like you completely forgot she was there to begin with, the same way Levi had forgotten. Cheesecake just stares back, big green eyes taking you in.

You quickly look away and stare at Levi, but that doesn’t seem to bring you any more comfort.

“I—I’m… I’m sorry— shit.” Your eyes are wide, breaths heavy. “I shouldn’t have…”

You stare at each other, the silence only filled with your heavy panting and Levi’s irregular breathing. You place a hand over your mouth and look away, unable to meet his eyes.  “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to...”

Levi runs his teeth over his bottom lip, swiping his tongue over it to taste you. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Yes, I do. I’m a human, and you’re an Android. My Android. And I kissed you, and it was a lot more than a peck, which is… inappropriate, and an abuse of authority.”

“No, it’s not. You didn’t order me. I let you kiss me because I wanted you to, not because you asked me to.”

This only seems to fluster you more. Levi can hear your hammering heartbeats from here, can detect the increased bloodflow heating your face. He’s lucky that humans don’t have advanced receptors like he has, because otherwise, you’d discover that his body is in no better state.

You swallow thickly. “That’s a relief, but I… um…” You clear your throat, shame evident on your features. “I got a bit carried away there. I just—” You evade his eyes again. “I just wanted to…”

“Perform a scientific experiment?” His voice is dryly mocking despite the chaotic, frenzied state of his body.

You finally meet his eyes. Your gaze falls on the small smirk on Levi’s lips, which pulls your shoulders down to a more relaxed position. With a snort, you shake your head, an embarrassed smile slowly lifting the corners of your mouth. “Yeah. For funsies.”

“So what are your findings?” Levi asks. Miraculously, he manages to sound teasing and nonchalant rather than breathless and flustered. At least he’s got some control left. Some way to pretend he’s much less affected than he actually is. Which is downright ridiculous, given the desperate way he just kissed you. Nevertheless, a thick veil of pretense is his only method of damage control.

You clear your throat, visibly struggling to meet his eyes. “Your mouth feels… exactly like a human mouth.”

Levi quirks a brow. “And…?”

“And you’re… good at using it. You kiss like humans do. Even better, actually. You learn scarily fast.”

He cocks his head. “Oh?”

“Yes. Which is why, well…” You clear your throat again. “It’s why I got a bit distracted during my research. I hadn’t… anticipated that.”

Levi tastes his bottom lip again, aching to taste you once more. His gaze falls to your mouth. “Yeah, you really did get distracted.”

“Don’t look at me like that!” you yelp, whipping your gaze to the side — anything to avoid his eyes. You’re entirely consumed by flustered heat, and it only spikes Levi’s satisfaction.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re…” You dare to take a quick peep at him, but Levi can hear your heart rate jump the moment you do. You reach over the boat and splash a handful of water onto him. “Stop! And stop smiling like that!”

“Why can’t I smile? I like seeing you all embarrassed.”

“You know what? I’ve had enough. I’m going for a swim.”

Genuine amusement curves Levi’s lips as you jump into the water and coax Cheesecake to follow suit, completely ignoring Levi’s existence. You swim around, pretending all is well, pretending this is just a normal summer day between a human and an Android, with no tension or physical attraction whatsoever.  

Same goes for the rest of the day. You try to act relaxed and unbothered like nothing happened, while Levi goes back to pretending you’re just another human he tolerates.

But he knows you too well. He knows what your relaxed heartbeats sound like. He knows the rhythm of your breathing whenever you’re calm and laid-back. And you’re not even close to that relaxed state, especially whenever your gazes lock. You can’t hide this from him.

But he can’t hide from himself, either. Every part of him is a mess he can quantify: higher temperatures, rising frequencies, voltage spikes, systems driven past optimal thresholds, and frenzied algorithms — all numbers and computations that map the effect you have on him, yet fail to explain it.

But he doesn’t need a mathematical explanation. He can feel it. An emotion rather than a calculation; something irrational and unexplainable. Perhaps the result of a bug, or perhaps not. It doesn’t even matter at this point.

All that matters is that he knows he's fallen in love with you, and he fears nothing can possibly reverse it ever again.

:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:

But you’re not here with him right now, because your lazy bumass is too occupied lying horizontally on the couch while scrolling through your phone. As usual.

Levi reaches the apartment building with three bags full of groceries. The moment he steps out of the elevator on the 13th floor, he hears a faint sniff coming from inside.

He freezes.

Oh dear God.

Not again.

He doesn’t think he can deal with you catching a cold. Three weeks ago, you got food-poisoned from a sandwich you bought during lunch-break at work, and ever since, he’s forbidden you from leaving in the morning without his packed lunches, because at least he knows those are fresh.

It was a horrible day. Arguably the worst day of his life. He didn’t think it was physically possible for a human to spew out so many whiny complaints per minute, but it seems that when sick, your insufferability defies the laws of physics. His processors literally overheated from the exasperation of it all, although you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice.

As Levi opens the door, another sniffle reaches his auditory receptors. You’re curled up in the couch, buried under a soft blanket, not looking up as he enters. Bracing himself for the worst, he places the grocery bags on the kitchen table while quietly computing all the ways a cold can be combatted as quickly and efficiently as possible.

He should go to the pharmacy post haste.

Another pitiful sniffle stirs the air.

Shit.

He briefly considers fleeing and grieving his last moments of peace, but eventually decides that it would be much more efficient to make a proper health assessment before heading to the pharmacy.

Reluctantly, he rounds the couch and stops in front of you. You’re lying on your side in a fetal position, fully wrapped in a fluffy white blanket like a cocooned butterfly. Only your eyes and the top of your nose are exposed as you gaze up at him. The sight reminds him of a small, scared baby deer. It fills Levi with a strange, sudden urge to hold you close and plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

The thought is immediately swept away and followed by concerned bewilderment. What the hell? That urge… it must’ve been caused by some glitch in his decision matrix. A misfiring of his processing threads. It seems to happen a lot lately. He really needs to get that checked out soon.

But first, he has more pressing matters to attend to.

“What’s wrong with you?” he demands.

“Nothing.” Your pitiful voice is muffled by the thick blanket. You look away and stare ahead — at his knees, to be exact. Or through his knees. You don’t really seem to be looking at anything.

A small wave of concern sends his neural lattice racing. His mind runs through all the possible causes of your strange behavior, computing at a rapid speed. It could be a common cold, seasonal allergies, or a sinus infection. Or perhaps influenza? Maybe viral rhinosinusitis? An upper respiratory infection is also possible.

“You’re lying,” he says once he’s mapped the 20 most likely possibilities. “Just tell me.”

You don’t reply.

Strange. This will require a closer inspection. He crouches down to your level, but you avert your gaze, looking down at your tucked-in knees.

“Hey… look at me.” He carefully pushes down the blanket covering your face, revealing his worst nightmare.

Your eyes are watery, red, and swollen, and through his enhanced vision, Levi detects increased blood flow in the delicate vessels around your eyes and along your nose. Also, your cheeks are wet.

He blinks. “You’re crying?”  

A surge of panic has his system nearly shutting down and self-destructing on the spot. Oh god. You’re crying. Fuck. What is he supposed to do? He wasn’t programmed for this shit.

“I’m not crying,” you mutter, voice small.

“You’re definitely crying.”

You blow your nose with a snotty tissue and partly tuck your face under the blankets again. “I’m fine, Levi. Don’t worry.”

Relief floods his system, causing his synthetic synapses to finally slow their rapid firing. “Okay. Good.”

He gets up and steps towards the kitchen. He hears you stir, and from the corner of his vision, he notices your head peeking over the couch.

“… Where are you going?” you ask weakly.

“These grocery bags aren’t going to empty themselves.”

“Are you serious, Levi?” Your voice wobbles, sending a prickle of alarm down his system.

He looks up from the grocery bags to cast you a puzzled look. “Yes. Why?”

You choke out a sob. “You don’t care about me at all, do you?”

“Wait, what?”

You fall into the couch again and start sobbing uncontrollably.

What the hell?

Levi steps back to the couch and looks down at you. You’re shaking, curled up in a little ball, choking down sobs. A pang of ache travels through his chassis, unfamiliar and unwelcome. The sounds of your cries seem to shake him within, which is….  strange. There has to be a logical explanation for it. Maybe the frequencies of your voice just so happen to resonate with his own internal vibrations? There’s only a small chance for such a physical phenomenon to happen, but he doesn’t know how else to explain the strange, shaking, stinging feeling that is currently destabilizing his body.

He tries to ignore it.

“What’s wrong with you?” he snaps. “Why are you crying?”

“Like you care,” comes your muffled voice.

He scowls. “What is that supposed to mean? I checked on you, and you said you were fine.”

You aggressively push the blanket off your face and glower at him with tear-filled eyes. “That doesn’t mean I’m actually fine!”

Levi crosses his arms, irritation crinkling his brows. “This makes no sense. You lied to me, and now you blame me for taking your words at face value?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what I’m doing!”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I know! I’m a ridiculous person, and pathetic, and unlovable, and incompetent. I should never have been born!”

Levi blinks. “What in the ever-loving fuck are you on about?”

Stubbornly, you bury your face under the blankets again. “Go away.”

He rolls his eyes. “If I walk away right now, you’ll never speak to me again.”

“…. Probably.”

He sighs. Before he can think better of it, he slides his arms beneath you and lifts you up. He ignores your panicked shriek and lowers you both onto the couch, tucking you onto his lap and pressing you against his chest. He doesn’t know why he does it; it must be another glitch in his decision matrix or something, but he doesn’t care to find a logical explanation for his actions right now.

The same can’t be said about you. You look at him with utter bewilderment. You try to move your arms — probably to push yourself off of him — but you’re completely wrapped like a burrito, and Levi has no intentions of letting you go until this crisis has been properly handled. In fact, he grabs your wrapped legs and pulls you closer to his body.

“What are you doing?!” you gasp, your breathing ragged.

“Holding you. Don’t humans like to be held when they’re sad?”

“I mean, yes, often they do, but…” your eyes travel frantically over his face. You look confused, shocked, and frankly, adorable as hell in that soft cocoon of yours, although he doesn’t like to admit it. You’re closer than he’d anticipated, too: your head is resting against his shoulder, breaths fanning the crook of his neck, your runny nose only a hair's breadth away from his. It only intensifies the strange, unfamiliar hum in his torso.

“But what?” he asks.

You swallow thickly. “You’ve never been…. affectionate. DroidTech told me you weren’t made to be affectionate or emotionally supportive.”

“I’m not,” he agrees, feeling increasingly uncomfortable by the reality of his situation. Why is he doing this again?

“So why are you holding me?” you ask, mirroring his thoughts.

He looks down at your burrito head on his chest. “Because your crying makes me deeply uncomfortable. I can’t focus with you sobbing and snottering around.”

You huff. “Oh, I get it now. I’m a horrendously ugly crier, both audibly and visually. Is that it?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a complete lie. There’s nothing ugly about you. There never has been. He just doesn’t know how to explain the way seeing you all sad and distressed evokes a strange, almost primal urge to protect you and hold you close. It doesn’t make sense at all. Machines aren’t supposed to be primal. Yes, he was built for autonomous thinking, but his current thoughts seem to defy his logic engine and behavioral constraints. There’s no logical reason for wanting to protect you and hold you close. He was built to perform house chores and provide basic services. That’s it. There has to be a serious glitch disturbing his system right now. He really needs to run a diagnostic test to figure out what’s going on.

He will. At least, once you’re stable again.

After a beat of silence, only stirred by your frequent wet sniffs, he asks, “Why are you crying anyway?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Okay.”

Your eyes flutter up to him. “Now ask again.”

He huffs, mildly amused. “Okay… why are you crying?”

You hesitate. Your gaze floats down, teeth worrying your lip.

“Stop acting all mysterious,” he demands, a little irritated. “Just tell me.”

You briefly scowl, then relent with a sigh. “I had a terrible fight with my childhood friend while you were gone. She asked me to come over during the weekdays to help her around, because she’s pregnant and her boyfriend is a useless bum. But next week I’ll have to work very late every day because there’s an extremely important deadline coming up, and she lives more than two hours away, so it’s not feasible. The week after, I’m going on a work trip. She didn’t like that answer. She suddenly dropped a whole bomb about how I’m an unsupportive friend, and that she felt abandoned when I decided to move to another city three years ago.”

Levi frowns, but with a wet sniff, you continue. “Honestly, there’s been a small, unspoken rift between us for years. Ever since we graduated highschool, I took a step back because she’s a little too controlling and she rarely seems to truly care about how I feel, only about how I make her feel. But at the end of the day, I still love her, and most of the time we have lots of fun when we’re hanging out together. But it’s not enough, clearly. She said I wasn’t enough and that I don’t care about her, which is kinda crazy because all our conversations usually revolve around her life. She rarely asks me how I’m doing.”

Levi doesn’t know what to say. He’s got no directives, nothing programmed into him that can help him navigate this delicate situation. After a long moment of intensive computation and deep thinking, he finally lands on:

“Your childhood friend is dumb as hell.”

You snort. “I mean, I guess she’s just having a really difficult time with her pregnancy. It’s really hard on the body and the mind, and the fact her boyfriend isn’t doing anything isn’t helping.”

“Then she should’ve dumped him instead of procreating with him and demanding you pick up the slack. This whole thing is so stupid. I hope you never talk to her again.”

A little smile catches your mouth. “You know, you’re quite good at defending me. Not exactly like how my mother would console me, but I can’t complain.”

He casts you a pointed glance. “Now that you’re mentioning it, why didn’t you call your mother to console you?”

“I tried.” Your voice wobbles dangerously again, and to Levi’s horror, another tear rolls off your cheek. “But she’s on a trip with my dad, and she didn’t have time to call. That’s what kick-started the tears. I suddenly felt so alone.”

Something within Levi’s tightens uncomfortably. It’s that strange glitch again. His grip firms around you, and his voice turns quiet. “You’re not alone.”

You open your mouth to say something, but think better of it. Whatever is on your mind, you swallow it down, and from one moment to the next, you look even sadder than before. Another tear falls down.

Levi’s neural lattice turns frantic. There has to be something his core algorithms can do to solve this, except his panic seems to jumble his computations into something incomprehensible.

He voices the first question that comes to mind.  “How would your mother have consoled you if she were here?”

He fears it’ll send you into another sobfest, but he also hopes it’ll distract you from whatever is on your mind, and also, that he can learn from someone you love.

You swallow thickly, but thankfully, no tear falls down. For now. “She’d probably say that friendships are tough like that sometimes, and that the two of us will make up in no time. She’d tell me my friend was having a bad day, and that how she lashed out at me was probably more a reflection of herself than of me, and that I shouldn’t worry too much about it. That I should call once we’ve both calmed down.”

Levi’s nose scrunches in distaste. “That’s a bunch of horseshit. Friendships aren’t supposed to be tough like that, and frankly, your friend just sounds self-centered, entitled, and mean. You should just unfriend her.”

The corners of your mouth quirk up a little. “She certainly wouldn’t insult my friend like you do, although I secretly don’t mind because I’m angry with her anyway.”

“As you should be.”

“Also, my mom would probably hold me and massage my head.”

Levi’s eyes narrow at your expectant stare.  “Is that a silent request?”

“….. Maybe.”

He sighs. “Such a spoiled thing you are.”

What he doesn’t say out loud, is that he doesn’t mind spoiling you. He hasn’t in a long time. At this point, all his complaints are more to convince himself that your smiles aren’t something he looks forward to every single day. It’s an uncomfortable truth he hasn’t yet come to terms with.

It’s probably just a temporary glitch anyway. He’s an Android; his life is supposed to be nothing but a continuous series of tasks he feels neutral about, and some conversations here and there that he feels equally neutral about. He’s not supposed to feel much of anything, really, but lately, his power-core and something else within him have been humming pleasantly whenever he hears you laugh, or whenever your expression brightens with bliss as you devour a dish he made.

This strange desire to see you smile probably explains why he gently pushes down the fluffy blanket that cocoons your head, and starts massaging your scalp. With his other hand, he carefully brushes the tears off your cheeks, then reaches under the blanket to stroke your arm and your back.

Your eyes flutter shut, and your body seems to melt into him. You release a sound of pure bliss, something between a moan and a purr.

“You’re acting exactly like Cheesecake,” Levi points out, the barest of smiles tugging at his mouth.

You sniff out a laugh. “That’s simply because you’re so good at this. She and I can’t help it.”

To drive your point home, you wrap your arms around him until you’re completely tucked into his body. Your warmth, your touch, and the soft, satisfied sigh you exhale in his neck — it’s all too much. He’s never been touched like this. Never had to compute and process so many physical stimuli at once.

From one moment to the next, his entire system unexpectedly destabilizes.

Levi doesn’t know what’s happening. His mind buzzes, and his thermal regulators strain to compensate for a bizarre, unexplainable energy surge within his power core. His internal cooling fluids pulse through his system at an increasingly rapid rate, and he feels this strange tightness in his torso. A bizarre, overwhelming… fondness? Adoration, maybe? He doesn’t know how he knows that it’s fondness or adoration, but the recognition rushes through him anyway, overheating his internal processors.

“You’re so warm,” you murmur, snuggling into him like a cat, completely unaware that his internal equilibrium is literally collapsing as you speak.

If only you knew you were the cause of that warmth. Or rather, that you’re triggering the glitch behind his rising body heat. He should push you away and step into his charging station, where he can start a full-body diagnostic scan. If the device doesn’t find anything, he should contact DroidTech and send himself back for repair or replacement.

He’s clearly feeling things he’s not supposed to feel, overwriting his cognitive and behavioral restrictions. Which means he’s an anomaly. Being an anomaly is extremely dangerous in the case of highly advanced Androids like him. According to every warning manual ever written about Androids, it makes him a potential threat. So if DroidTech doesn’t command him to self-destruct, they will at the very least remove and destroy his entire cognitive core, then rebuild a new one.

He should get up right now and get this fixed. He really should.

And if the behavioral constraints programmed into him were intact, he would.

But he doesn’t want to.

This energy surge, this weird flutter in his torso, and the overwhelming softness he feels as he strokes your hair and holds you close, feels good. It feels too close to being alive. It’s like seeing color for the first time, or stepping out of a lifetime-long fog. He knows he shouldn’t hold onto it, but right now, while you’re cradled in his arms, he can’t let go.

He knows this anomaly is not something he can hide from you forever. Once he has a better understanding of what’s happening to him, he’ll tell you, and then you’ll have to send him for repair or replacement, which you’re legally bound to do. After that, he’ll probably never see you again.

It’s inevitable, but he’s not ready yet. He wants to hold you close a little longer.

So he does. He listens to your breathing slow and focuses on the vibrations of your relaxed heartbeats as you fall asleep. The sun gradually lowers on the horizon, bathing the room in a soft amber-pink glow, and in the peaceful quietness, Levi lets himself relax into the warmth and softness of your body as he strokes soothing circles over your back. All the while, he revels in the strange, unfamiliar feeling of affection that engulfs his system.

It’s the closest thing to magic he’s ever felt before.

:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:

The next day, Levi steps out of his charging station during the wee hours of the morning, the tall windows still showcasing a dark, starry-night sky barely illuminated by a morning glow. Without wasting any time, he whisks up thick dough for blueberry muffins and banana bread. While the sweet pastries bake in the oven, he rushes to the closest supermarket that is open at this hour, and buys fresh strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries. Just as he’s about to pay at the self-scan machines, he notices colorful bouquets of tulips close to the exit, and before he can think better of it, he grabs one with soft pink petals.

He’s back just in time to take the steaming muffins and bananabread out of the oven, which he puts on a plate and decorates with a generous amount of strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries. You’re not always hungry in the morning, but nonetheless, as he notices your alarm going off and hears you trudging out of bed to do your morning routine in the bathroom, he quickly makes coffee, an avocado toast with fresh cherry tomatoes, and some cheesy scrambled eggs with a sprinkle of thyme and pepper.

“Good morning,” you mutter with a raspy voice. You step into the living-room looking adorably sleepy and dishevelled. With a confused frown, you sniff the air. “Why does it smell even better than usual?”

Levi places a hot mug of coffee next to the full plates on the kitchen island. “I thought you’d need some extra nutrients and comfort after that sad fiasco from yesterday.”

You step closer, then halt as your attention catches on the big, colorful breakfast facing your favorite go-to barstool. Your eyes widen, then widen even more when your gaze lands on the vase of pink tulips. “Wh—what...?” You swallow and blink rapidly as you step closer to the table. “Why… why would you do this for me?”

Levi tenses. “What do you mean?”

Your voice turns hoarse. “You always make excellent breakfasts, but never like this. I… I think I’m gonna cry again. This is the sweetest thing ever.” You swallow thickly, and for a moment, Levi fears you’re actually going to tear up, but you manage to reel it back in. “I know I sometimes tease you about it, but I’m serious this time. I’m pretty sure you’re not programmed to be an emotional support robot. What’s going on?”

A small wave of panic engulfs Levi’s system, because you’re absolutely right. What the hell is he doing? His internal processors heat up as he scrambles internally, but nonetheless, he manages to keep his voice neutrally cool. “This food was going to go bad if you didn’t eat it soon. I’m done throwing food away because you decide not to eat enough. It’s asinine.”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion as you sit down. “All of it would go bad? Really? I don’t think I believe you.”

“Just eat the damn breakfast. Otherwise, you’re going to be late for work.”

You look at the flowers, your expression flickering with an emotion he can’t quite place. “What about the flowers?”

“What about them? You don’t like them?”

“No, I do. It’s…. they’re tulips. They’re my favorite flowers.” You search for something in his eyes, looking almost shy. “Did you know that?”

Shit. His cooling fluids pulse frantically through his system, desperately trying to regulate his rising internal temperatures. “Yes. But I bought them to help bring a fresh odor into the house. Your socks leave a musty smell.”

He doesn’t know why he’s so on the defensive right now, but he can’t seem to face the reality of his actions: that ever since comforting you yesterday — and admittedly even before that — he’s been driven by a deep, inexplicable desire to make you feel good. He’s also terrified of you finding out. He’s not ready to be sent to DroidTech yet.

Something like suspicion skates across your face. “Tulips don’t have much of a smell.”

He curses internally at his fuck up. He usually never fucks up. But apparently, you seem to fuck him up quite effortlessly. With a scowl, he snaps, “Are you going to eat or not?”

You watch him for a moment, and Levi briefly considers simply insulting you to mask his suspicious show of affection, but luckily, your pensive stare turns into a soft smile. “Yes, of course I’ll eat. It looks delicious.”

You hesitate, then hop off the stool and round the table to reach him. Before he can process what you’re doing, you press a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you so much, Levi. For this, and for yesterday. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

That shuts him right up. He’s too busy tempering the strange rush that sends his thermoregulators into a frenzy to reply. You don’t seem to mind, though. With a smile that looks too beautiful for Levi’s own good, you take a seat and start devouring the delicacies like there’s no tomorrow.

:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:

Levi never used to understand abstract terms like “missing”, “longing”, or “yearning”. Those were all just vague human sentiments that sounded rather theatrical, and, honestly, kinda pathetic.

Unfortunately, it turns out he’s kinda pathetic, too. Every morning when you grab your bag and step through the door to leave, a strange emptiness settles in his body. On a physical level, his internal power regulators and energy distribution grids seem to falter and slow down to concerning levels. On a cognitive level, he just feels… empty.

Every moment you spend in the office, he’s so restless that he doesn’t even want to dock in his charging station. Instead, he cleans and tidies the apartment to absurd levels, just to do something with his hands. When there really is nothing left to clean, he plays with Cheesecake to pass the time and feel a little closer to you. Other times, he wanders through the city looking for pretty tulips, scented candles, or sweet-salted caramel cookies, before eventually deciding he shouldn’t spoil you too much, despite his urge to do so.

He misses you. All the fucking time. It’s downright ridiculous. Even when he finds a way to occupy himself, you’re still on his mind. Every day, while the hours drag on, he finds himself looping the same questions: What are you doing? Did you sleep well enough to handle a long workday? Will you like the lunch he packed for you? Is Fred being a dick again, and if so, when will you give Levi permission to start planning that cockroach’s demise?

He imagines you at your desk, pictures the cadence of your voice during a call, the exact way it sounds when you’re focused, and then he spends the next hour aching for the moment he’ll hear it again.

It’s honestly concerning. His domestic tasks should be the only things on his mind, because that’s what he was created to do. But instead, he wants to talk to you, bicker with you, practice the ukulele together, play stupid video games that turn you furious and competitive, and watch even stupider shows until you doze off against his shoulder, warm and trusting.

He constantly berates himself for missing you, considering he sees you every day. It’s so ridiculous and unreasonable that he sometimes briefly considers going to DroidTech so that they can trigger his self-destruct command, just to be rid of it all. But then he immediately remembers that this would mean he’d never see you again, and he isn’t ready for that. At all.

He doesn’t want to self-destruct, although sometimes, he does think it was better before, when his mind was simply filled with domestic duties instead of this uncomfortable, pathetic yearning that seems to haunt him all day long.

But even that thought never lasts, because eventually, familiar keys turn into the door lock, and your voice appears, warming the air all over again. Whether you step through the door smiling or grumbling about work, your expression always seems to soften a little when your gaze meets his, sending a rush of fondness through his body that he still can’t quite describe. It’s always in that moment that he remembers that his ceaseless longing during the day is worth it. He wouldn’t trade his current, unstable life with his previous, stable one for the world.

It’s not that his life used to feel empty, exactly, but it never felt full. It wasn’t supposed to feel full. He’s an Android; his life is simply meant to be a series of tasks, but you and Cheesecake give his life meaning in a way he didn’t think was possible.

So maybe, the painful longing he feels when you leave each morning is a small price to pay.

:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:

You gasp. “Hey! I didn’t say you could come in!”

“I don’t care. Y—“ he halts, his eyes narrowing on the gazillion clothes thrown half-hazardly on the floor and on your bed. “—What the hell?”

“I don’t know what to wear!” you whine. “You haven’t even told me where we’re going. How am I supposed to get dressed if I don’t know where we’re going?”

“Seriously?” He scoffs. “That’s your excuse? I told you we’re going outside, to a remote place, so there will be no one around. You can safely dress like a troll — it won’t matter.”

“See?!” You jerk an accusatory finger at him. “The fact we’re going outside makes it even more difficult, Levi! It’s cold, and dressing for the cold is not easy, especially if I don’t know how long we’ll stay out. Don’t blame me!”

Levi rolls his eyes. “I prepared two heating pads, big thermos flasks of hot chocolate and tea, and multiple thick blankets. Also, I can make my body as hot as a furnace if necessary. You’ll be just fine.”

“Ugh, you’re truly the best. Have I ever told you that before?”

“Yes. Many times. Now get dressed.”

To Levi’s relief, you obediently put your clothes on.

Except that when it comes to the final layer of clothing, you hesitate. “Should I put the red sweater on or the black?”

“The black one is warmer. Take that one,” he says. “I may have packed a bunch of stuff to keep you warm, but lord knows your body’s thermoregulation sucks ass.”

You scowl. “Don’t insult my thermoregulation. Besides, I’m also kinda hesitating between the green hoodie and the—”

Levi steps forward, grabs the black sweater, and manhandles you into it.

You shriek and struggle against his grasp, though a hysterical giggle slips out. “Unhand me at once, you brute!”

“Brute?”

He hasn’t been evil enough today, so he tickles you to piss you off. You yelp, unable to push him away with your hands stuck in the air inside your sweater. Realizing you’re completely stuck, your shrieks turn into the most brutal profanities Levi has ever heard, which impresses even him. Lucky for you, he’s a merciful man, so he stops the torment and pulls your sweater down your body.

Which reveals your furious scowl. You look downright murderous, which makes Levi smile.

“I hate you,” you grumble.

He cocks his head. “Do you?”

“With every fibre of my soul.”

“Hmm.” He steps closer and gently catches your chin. Tilting your head to the side, he leans in until his mouth is on your neck, hot and heavy. He kisses the exact spot that always drives you crazy.

You gasp and hold onto his arm for balance, your voice turning hoarse. “I will not be swayed. Your little seduction tactics hold no power over me.”

“We’ll see about that,” he murmurs while kissing his way up your jaw. By the time he parts your mouth to slide his tongue past your lips, you’re completely out of breath, your heart thumping adorably hard.

“Cocky bastard. You can’t kiss your way out of this,” you complain against his mouth while simultaneously wrapping your arms around him and pressing him closer. “I’m not that easy, you monster.”

He smiles into the kiss. Your voice carries exactly zero conviction.

Oh, how much he wants to push you into the bed and make you unravel before him. He loves to feel your heart race, your skin heat, your breath quicken. He loves the way you’re so alive, so radiant and sensitive, reacting to his every touch.

But he also loves your adorable, awe-filled expressions, so he breaks the kiss.

“We should go,” he murmurs as he holds your face and presses a last quick peck on your lips.

“I can’t believe this,” you complain. “You burst into my room without my permission, manhandle me, torture me with tickles, and then you blue-ball me?”

“Yes. And if you don’t hurry the fuck up, I will manhandle you into your car.”

“Hmpf.”

Levi can tell you’re tempted to keep acting bratty, but after a brief moment of hesitation, you relent with an eye-roll and a dragged-out “Fiiiiine.”

You grab warm gloves and a scarf, and follow Levi out of your room, where Cheesecake is waiting in a thick cat-sweater that Levi had to fight her into. He steps out of the apartment carrying multiple bags, each full of warm blankets, hot chocolate, tea, snacks, and candles.

“Want me to drive?” he asks once you’ve both reached your car.

“Absolutely not.” You step towards the driver’s seat and shoot him a look. “I still don’t trust you to learn how to drive with my little baby.”

Levi scoffs. “Funny coming from you. You almost ran someone over last time. I think I can do better.”

“That’s beside the point,” you huff, nose in the air. You open the car door and step inside with Cheesecake in your arms. “Plus, I think you need an Android driver certificate or something to drive. So either way, the answer is no.”

“Fine, but you should really buy a self-driving car like the rest of the world,” he says as he steps in and slams the door shut. “You’ll get us killed one of these days. Your car is so ancient, I’m surprised it’s still legal. ”

“With what money? You cost me a liver, Levi. And a kidney.” You pause and hand Cheesecake over to him. “And a heart. My heart, unfortunately.”

He flings you an unimpressed look. “That was so cheesy.”

“Shut up. I was trying to be romantic.”

Levi snorts. “You? Romantic?”

You twist in your seat to glare at him, looking utterly scandalized. “What do you mean? I can be romantic!”

“I hope you’re being sarcastic.”

“Oh don’t give me that! You’re no better.”

He lifts a brow. “I buy you fresh flowers every week. I’ve taken you on every date you’ve ever dreamed of. I make your favorite meals and desserts all the time just to see you smile. I—”

“Okay okay I get it! Enough.”

The barest of smiles catches Levi’s mouth, but he decides to spare you from any further teasing — lest you get so distracted and enraged you drive them off the nearest cliff.

Twenty minutes later, you both arrive at the address Levi gave, right at the edge of the city where tall skyscrapers meet nature.

You step out of the car with Cheesecake in your arms, looking around with a puzzled frown. “Okay, I’m intrigued but also a little bit confused. Why are we here exactly?”

“Patience,” Levi says.

You shoot him a defiant, suspicious look, but your sass is interrupted by a shiver. Levi frowns and steps closer. He wraps your scarf more tightly around your neck, then fishes your beanie out of his pocket, which he took along in secret. It’s the only warm beanie you own, but unfortunately, it’s an ugly thing in mismatched colors that your aunt gifted you when you were sixteen. You’ve never worn it out of your own volition, and Levi doesn’t think you ever will, so before you can protest, he forces it on your head.

You scowl, but while he adjusts the beanie, a sly smile grows on your face. “Normally, I would fight you for daring to put that ugly-ass thing on my head, but watching you fussing over me like a mother hen is kinda fun, so I forgive you.”

He scoffs. “Of course you’d say that.”

You shoot him a smile that, over the months, you’ve perfected to be ultra annoying, just for the sake of pissing Levi off. It’s not working because you look too ridiculous in your beanie. Levi makes sure to tell you as much, which wipes the cocky smile off your face.

“C’mon,” he says. “It’s a bit of a walk from here, and we don’t have all night.”

“We have to walk up there?” you ask, pointing at the steep grassy hill ahead. “Uphill?”

“Yes, which will keep you warm. Also, you direly need the exercise. You should thank me. I’m trying to save you from premature death.”

You grumble something incomprehensible under your breath, but that’s all the resistance Levi receives as you follow him up the hill.

At least, during the first ten minutes. As soon as you reach the first patch of trees, you start bombarding Levi with insufferable questions. The only thing that shuts you up is when he finally proposes to carry you on his back.

With deep reluctance, by the way. He can’t believe he has to carry a gazillion bags and your lazy bumass. Sometimes he wonders why he puts up with your shit.

“Ugh, Levi, I love you so much,” you coo against his ear, arms wrapped over his shoulders.

“Can’t say the same about you right now,” he grumbles.

The only one who has some sense is Cheesecake, who trots happily beside him. He makes sure to tell you as much, trying to sound as offensive as possible, but all this does is increase your evilness. He can hear the insufferable smile on your lips as you continue to tease him. He seriously considers tackling you to the ground and tickling your sides until you turn into a furious monster, but his vengeful thoughts are interrupted when he realizes he has finally arrived at the destination.

Judging by your sudden silence, you notice too.

You’re both at the top of the hill, standing in an open clearing full of little wildflowers. When Levi turns to look at the city behind him, you gasp in his ear. There’s a moment of silence as you both stare at the mesmerising view of the entire city, with its tall skyscrapers and city lights glittering in the dark like the stars above.

“Whoa…” you mutter, your breath fogging into the night air.

“I’m dropping you now.”

You don’t protest; you’re too hypnotized by the view.

"How do you know about this place?" you ask, breathless.

"Bit of research," he says. "I checked it out while you were at work. Figured it was good enough."

"'Good enough'?! That's such a ridiculous understatement. Levi, this spot is insane."

Admittedly, it is.

While you gape at the city and the scattered constellations, Levi spreads a checkered picnic blanket over the grass and surrounds it with dozens of candles (electronic ones; he’s not trying to start a forest fire).

He also wrestles with Cheesecake to put her protective earmuffs on, specifically designed to suppress loud, explosive sounds like fireworks. The insufferable beast throws a massive tantrum for the first few seconds, then forgets her theatrics the moment Levi pulls out her favorite tuna snack. With his hands on his hips like a scornful father, he watches her devour it. Once he’s sure she’s forgotten the earmuffs and has no intention of clawing them off, he finally exhales an annoyed, relieved breath.

He looks up, and finds you looking at him with a shit-eating grin.

His eyes narrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” you shrug. “You two are just too cute. She loves you so much.”

“Because I give her snacks,” he grumbles. “It’s conditional, and she’s materialistic.”

“No amount of materialism could prevent you from getting your face clawed out after forcing earmuffs on her head. She only accepts earmuffs from people she adores.”

“Hm.” He looks down at Cheesecake. It’s strange to think that this fluffy little thing loves, and even adores him.

… He supposes the feeling is mutual. He’s secretly grown all soft and fond of her, although he usually doesn’t like to admit it, especially when she acts like a bratty beast or spreads too much fur on him.

His thoughts are interrupted when you hop towards him with a radiant smile, pull him down, and cuddle close, your body molding with his and Cheesecake’s.

For warmth, you say. Clearly an excuse, considering you’ve placed one heating pad on your lap and another under your sweater, and you’ve also buried both yourself and Levi beneath multiple thick blankets, with Cheesecake’s warm little body to top it off. You must be warm enough. Nonetheless, Levi plays along and wraps his arms around you, subtly raising his skin’s temperature as he pulls you closer.

“Ahh this is my favorite New Year’s Eve ever,” you sigh, a breathless smile softening your voice as you stare at the magnificent view.

“It better be,” he says. “I even made you that chocolate fudge-cake you’ve been obsessed with lately.”

“Really?!”

You fish it from one of the bags and devour it so fast that it’s actually disturbing. Levi is about to comment on it, but he’s interrupted by an explosion brightening the sky.

You gasp, eyes full of stars as you stare at the first fireworks.

Levi, however, is only amazed for a brief second. “Way too early,” he grumbles. “It’s eleven forty-three. Why are humans like this?”

You snort. “The point is to celebrate. Not to shoot fireworks at exactly 00:00:00.”

Levi isn’t convinced, but his grumpiness is soon overthrown by awe as the fireworks get more frequent and more magnificent.

It’s magical. All of it: the fireworks, the night sky, your high-pitched ooohhing and aahhing, the shared excitement of an entire city, the warmth of your body clamped around his, and the giddy twinkle in your eyes.

When midnight hits, the sky turns into a surreal burst of sparks and color. Cheesecake stares, a little wide-eyed, but her earmuffs and her trust in you and Levi keep her from turning jumpy. You cheer and laugh out loud, looking beautifully mesmerized. Levi can’t help but smile.

Once the fireworks slow down, you snuggle a little closer. “It’s time to pick our New Year’s resolutions.”

Levi shoots you an unimpressed look. “Why do people wait for New Year’s to set their goals? It’s ridiculous.”

“Because we need to feel like we’re starting over before we can believe we’ll actually stick to our goals.”

“That makes zero sense.”

“Human struggles rarely make sense,” you explain with a dismissive hand flick. “Anyway, this is not up for debate. This is obligatory New Year’s resolution time. What do you want us to achieve this year?”

“Us? Leave me out of this.”

“Oh!” you gasp, completely ignoring him. “You can try to learn how to play the guitar and sing romantic songs for me. It would boost my ego and perhaps give me a god-complex, which I would love to have.”

“Absolutely the fuck not. I do have one for you, though: you should try moving sometimes. ‘Exercising’ is the official term, though I’m sure that doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Fuck off.”

“Insulting me won’t help you, unlike exercising.”

“Ugh, I hate when you’re right,” you grumble.

“Also,” Levi continues. “We’ll finally tackle that travel bucket-list of yours.”

Your face instantly brightens. “Ohhh yes! At least one trip this year.”

“And I want you to stop doing overtime at work. You’re not getting paid for it, and it messes with your sleep schedule and mental health. It pisses me off.”

A grin spreads on your face. “With Fred soon gone, I think that’s achievable.” You halt, then shift to properly look at Levi. “About work —  remember Floch? He, well... got fired.”

“Did he now?” Levi says, voice flat and apathic.

You frown. Then your eyes widen. “Wait— don’t tell me…”

Levi just looks at you. The silence is only interrupted by the loud crack of a firework.

“You’re the one who got him fired?!” you screech, your shock a comical contrast to the joyful sparks glittering across the sky.

“I also made sure his girlfriend broke up with him and kicked him out of their apartment, so now he has to crash on his friend’s couch in another city. Fucking prick deserves it, and much more.”

You blink, stunned. “Wait what?!“

“When I said I was going to ruin his life, I meant it,” he says while looking you dead in the eyes. “I don’t say shit like that for show. I want to do much worse, but most of my programmed rules are impossible to overwrite without triggering an alert that would let DroidTech know I’m an anomaly.”

“Levi, holy shit.”

His eyes narrow. “Don’t you dare defend him.”

“Oh, no. Floch is a creepy asshole who doesn’t care about boundaries. It’s not his first time acting like that at a work event around drunk women. He’s disgusting, not to mention a cheater. I was going to say that was extremely sexy of you.”

Levi huffs out a breath, shaking his head with the barest of smiles.

“And you know what? I take my words back from earlier,” you add. “You are, indeed, very, very romantic.”

He lifts a brow. “Ruining a man’s life is romantic?”

“Absolutely,” you confirm. “But don’t go around destroying the lives of every man who dares to breathe the same air I do, please. That’s a step too far.”

Levi huffs. “Duly noted.”

You bite back a laugh. "Excellent."

You exhale a blissful sigh and rest your head against his chest. While stroking your fingers over Cheesecake’s little head, you watch the remaining fireworks popping through the sky, your body curled against Levi's.

“Can you believe it’s almost been a year since you moved in?” you murmur after a moment of comfortable firework-watching.

“I can believe that, yes.”

“It feels like it flew by in an eye-blink, but at the same time, it also feels like we’ve known each other for years.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Ugh, Levi, stop being so damn literal.”

He tries to hide how entertained he is by this, but fails miserably.

You squint at him, your gaze landing on the small smile he can’t repress. Your frown deepens.

“I knew it!” you snap. “You’re doing this just to piss me off, aren't you?”

“Doing what?” he asks, just to piss you off more.

“Being annoyingly literal. Acting like a little shit. Adopting the personality of a triangle ruler.”

“Triangle rulers don’t have personalities since they’re not sentient.”

You slap his arm, which makes him smile more.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll drag you to poetry classes to beat the dry rigidity out of you,” you grumble. “Oh! And I'm sure more human interactions will help too, so I’m taking you to all after-work events this year that allow plus-ones.”

“God no.”

The most evil grin creeps up your mouth. “My colleagues need eye-candy, Levi. You’re hot as hell. When’s the last time you’ve done charity? For someone other than me, of course.”

“Please fucking spare me.”

Much to Levi’s dismay, you continue teasing him and threatening him to socialize. His only escape is to switch the topic back to New Year’s resolutions, which fills your eyes with so much beautiful radiance that it brings the stars and the fireworks to shame.

In the following hours, Cheesecake falls asleep under the blankets while you and Levi discuss all the things you want to do together — if not this year, then the years after. Trips to remote islands, pottery classes, hiking, sledging in the winter, binge-watching classics that you swear are masterpieces, playing horror games together, road-tripping with Cheesecake and zero plans (which Levi isn’t as enthused about), doing painting challenges that will surely turn you both into competitive monsters, watching theatre plays, and so on.

There’s something about this, about lying down and looking in your excited, candle-lit eyes while talking on and on about your futures together, that makes something tingle and bloom in Levi’s metal chest.

He never used to dream. Never thought it possible for an Android. Yet here he is, envisioning a life that tastes like magic and exhilaration. He’ll never grow tired of his constant thirst for life whenever you two are together. Nor will he ever stop craving the every day teasing, bickering, nonsensical back-and-forths, and held-back laughter. Even the monotony of routine has become something to look forward to — a precious kind of rest with someone he adores between adventures, rather than the life sentence he once believed was his fate before he fell in love with you.

Levi can’t help himself; as you two compile an endless list of adventures together, he keeps stealing kisses in between, again and again. And so do you. Each time, he can’t stop smiling into the kiss, his head somewhere in the clouds, because life with you feels like dreaming.

The car’s polite robotic voice interrupts your suffering. “Good evening. Please confirm all passengers are secured.”

You and Kate both put your seatbelts on and respectively utter an exhausted “yep,” and “ready!”

“Your route has been calculated. Please sit back and enjoy the ride.”

The ride goes by fast. While rain pelts against the windows and city-lights sweep by, you and Kate giggle about the chaotic events of the night, including Fred’s humiliating speech, Armin getting properly drunk for the first time in his career and dancing like a champ, and Jean Kirstein from the sales department tripping over his own feet while trying to flirt with you two.

Twenty minutes later, the car stops in front of your towering apartment complex.

“First destination reached. Litham Street 46.”

You give Kate a warm hug and exchange goodbyes, but just as you’re about to open the door, Kate’s hand catches yours.

“Wait,” she says, voice suddenly serious. “Why is there a strange man pacing in front of your building?”

You follow her gaze. Surely enough, in front of the entrance, a shadow paces back and forth.

Your heartbeats pick up. “Creepy.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Kate says.

“I don’t know. Maybe we should....” Your words trail off as a prickle of recognition tickles your brain.

The view is distorted by rivulets of rain running down the window, so maybe you’re just imagining things, but you could swear….

You open the door, ignoring Kate’s “What are you doing?” to squint through the rain.

You gasp. “That’s—that’s Levi! My Android.”

Kate’s eyes widen. “That’s your Android? What is he doing outside?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine.” You glance at Kate, then do a double-take as you notice her sly smile. You snort. “Ugh, Kate, he’s not my boyfriend, okay? And I will introduce you one day. Just not when it’s raining and past four in the morning.”

She falls back in her seat, her smile widening. “Next after-work?”

“Maybe. If I manage to force him.”

She snickers. “I’m already looking forward to it.”

You step out of the car and wave her goodbye, exchanging the usual “text me when you’re home safe”.

As the car drives off, Levi steps towards you while you step towards him — although you’re moving much slower. Sitting down has brought some feeling back into your feet, and fuck, they hurt.

“Levi?” you call out.

“Where the hell were you? Are you okay? What happened?”

You’ve never heard him so agitated before. You pull your buttonless coat tighter around yourself, frowning. “Levi… what’s wrong? What are you doing outside?”

Instead of answering, he closes the distance and cradles your face. His touch is featherlight as he angles your head left and right. He takes a step back and scans you from head to toe, his gaze moving with focused precision. A deep frown darkens his expression, and both his clothes and hair are drenched and wild.

“Levi, answer me,” you demand. “How long have you been standing in the rain, and why? Did something happen?”

“That’s what I want to ask you. Why weren’t you responding to my messages?”

You sigh. “My phone died. I’m fine, though, I promise.”

He looks away for a beat, huffing out a disbelieving breath while running a hand through his wet hair. When he locks eyes with you again, his gaze is burning with frustration. “Don’t ever do that to me again. Take a power bank with you next time. Do you know I was on the verge of calling the fucking police?”

For a moment, you pause to take in his wet hair, wet lashes, and adorable frown. You can’t help but smile. “Not gonna lie, I like it when you fuss over me. It’s kinda cute.”

“Shut the hell up.”

Your smile grows into a full grin. “It was just a work party, Levi. Did you think Fred turned our murder plans around and poisoned my drink?”

“You don’t want to know what I fucking thought,” he snaps. “Anything can happen, you idiot. I’ve been computing every damn scenario possible for hours. I nearly lost my shit.”

You falter. "I... I’m sorry. I really am. I never meant to worry you.”

He shakes his head and looks away.

Your gaze lingers on his worried frown, and despite his distress, you have to purse your lips to hide a smile again. “But I’m also kinda flattered. You really care about me, huh?”

His gaze snaps to you. He looks almost disgusted. “Of course I care about you. What the fuck kind of stupid question is that?”

“I—” You blink, brows lifting. “Wait, so, hold on— you’ve been waiting in the cold rain… just for me? How long exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on.” He places his hand on the small of your back and urges you forward. “Let’s go inside before you catch a cold.”

Fine by you. You don’t want to stand in the winter rain any longer. You start walking, which pulls Levi’s gaze towards your legs.

He frowns. “Are you in pain?”

“That obvious, huh?” You wince while dragging your feet forward. “My heels are killing me. I could somewhat bear it during the party, but being in a car for twenty minutes has brought some feeling back into my toes. It’s horrible.”

The world suddenly topples. You yelp as Levi lifts you into his arms, princess style.

“Levi?!”

“I don’t want to hear any of your complaints. You’ve done enough tonight.”

You exhale a defeated sigh, although it sounds more pleased than annoyed even to your own ears. You relax into his warm arms and lean your head against his shoulder. “You spoil me too much.”

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

“You’re also deliciously warm. Are you doing that on purpose?”

“Maybe. You don’t deserve it, though.”

“Ugh, Levi, you’re truly the best person in the world.”

“Hm.”

You smile at his grumpiness, which only irritates him further.

Not enough to drop you, though. Even when you step inside the elevators, Levi refuses to let you go. While the elevator ascends, you receive a text from Kate confirming she arrived home safe. You send her a “good night<3” text, all while remaining comfortably in Levi’s arms.

He unlocks the apartment door, carries you inside, and places you on one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his face only illuminated by moonlight and city light streaming from the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Are you drunk? Nauseous?”

“Nope, I feel fine. Just tired." You sigh. "I admit I was a bit drunk at some point, but I feel pretty sober now. I didn’t want to get shit-faced like last week, when you had to come get me.”

“Smart decision.” He lowers himself on his haunches and carefully takes your heels off. His touch on your ankle is light, but it sends a prickle of heat up your cheeks.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Inspecting the damage.”

He frowns at your feet, reminding you once again of his ridiculously advanced eyes, which can perform a whole assessment in the darkness.

You wiggle your toes. “How is it looking?”

He makes a quiet sound of annoyance. “You’ve got a blister on each foot, and the area is inflamed. Seriously, you need to take better care of yourself.”

“It’s fiiine. It’ll heal in no time.”

You move to jump off the barstool, but he stops you with a warm hand on your knee.

“Sit still,” he says.

“But—”

“It’s an order.”

Your mouth slams shut. Levi gets up, turns the kettle on, and disappears into the hallway. He reappears a moment later with plasters, a small towel, and an antibiotic salve.

He lights two scented candles that instantly calm you, and sits on his haunches before you. Carefully, he grabs your right foot by the heel.

You’re tempted to tell Levi this is unnecessary and that you should just go to sleep, but to be perfectly honest, you don’t want to. Being coddled feels nice, especially when it’s done by him, and you enjoy the proximity.

And maybe he does, too.

… Or maybe not, because although you get a pretty view of a hot man on his knees, he has to deal with the unpleasant sight of blistered toes.

You try not to think about that for too long.

He carefully dabs the blistered areas clean with his small, wet towel. He’s so gentle that it makes you a little emotional — and yes, you blame the alcohol.

“Did you have fun at the party, at least?” he asks while placing some ointment on his index finger.

“More fun than I thought I would have, considering— oh my god, I didn’t tell you yet! I’ve got the best news ever: Fred is retiring!”

He looks up. “Really?”

“Yep! Finallyyy!” you beam. “He made the most arrogant, dickheaded, shitty speech humanly possible, and just as he was finishing up, someone yelled to put the music back on. Then someone else yelled to play the song ‘Good Riddance’. You should’ve seen his face, Levi. He was mortified. Best thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

A small smile catches Levi’s mouth while he dabs antibiotic salve on your blisters. “What did he do after?”

“Skittered away in the shadows like the cockroach he is.”

“Good.”

You exhale a blissful sigh. “The party was a blast after. Everyone was soooo pumped.”

“I can imagine,” he hums while plastering your wounds. “And with Fred gone, I take it no one else was there to bother you and ruin your night.”

You hesitate. “Eh, well…”

His gaze immediately flicks up.

“There’s this one guy…” you continue. “He was very flirty. Extremely annoying. I don’t necessarily mind when people attempt to flirt as long as they’re not pushy. Like, for example, Jean was flirty too, but in his case, it was funny because he tripped over his own feet, and he didn’t try to touch me inappropriately or anything. Floch on the other hand… ugh.” Your face twists in repulsion.

Levi stiffens, his jaw clenching tight. “He touched you?”

“I mean— he was handsy, you know? But luckily Kate managed to ward him off me. He was pretty drunk, so he refused to get the memo until I properly cussed him out.”

“Fucking hell.” Levi runs a hand over his face, his grip on your heel tightening. He looks and sounds positively murderous. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, no worries. It was just irritating. That’s all.”

He looks away and sweeps his tongue over his teeth in a motion so viciously enraged, so human, that it makes your heart stutter.

“Floch who?” he demands, voice deep. “What’s his surname?”

A smile grows on your face. “Why does that sound like a threat?”

“It is, and I’m dead fucking serious about it. He doesn’t get to touch you like that. No one does.”

You shrug. “Well, he did. Or tried to.”

Levi inhales a harsh breath, his jaw ticking. “I swear to god I’ll fucking destroy his life.”

You can’t help but giggle. “You better not attempt any murders, Levi. You’d shut down and get sent away, and I really don’t want to lose you.”

“I can ruin his life in other ways,” he counters, voice as sharp as an icy knife.

His dark gaze makes you smile, because you’re insufferable like that. “Hmmm, I didn’t take you for the jealous, possessive type.”

“Shut up. I’m not jealous or possessive.”

“Protective, then.”

He looks too frustrated to even reply. Instead of entertaining your teasing words, he stands up and rounds the kitchen island to wash his hands and grab a mug. The silence is only stirred by boiling water pouring into a cup.

You look down at your bandaged feet. In the silence, your amusement dissipates, giving way to something heavier. Levi’s protectiveness, his care… all his actions mean so much more than he lets on. He wasn’t even built to do all of this, yet, for you, he does it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You swallow hard, your throat thick with emotions you can’t quite place.

Levi reappears again and leans in to place the mug beside you.

“Ginger tea,” he explains, voice coldly neutral. “Helps with hangovers, headaches, all that stuff.”

He tries to step away, but you grab his arm before he can, keeping his hand on the table.

“Levi,” you murmur.

He looks down at your hand around his arm. Slowly, his eyes slide up to meet yours. God, he looks so pretty with his wet hair beautifully dishevelled like that, only touched by moonlight, candlelight, and the glow of a sleeping city.

You inhale a steadying breath. “Tell me, why did you wait for me outside?”

“I was worried, obviously."

 “But why? Why are you protective of me like that? Why does Floch make you this angry, and why do you fuss over something as small as blisters? Why do you always entertain my texts and buy me tulips whenever I’m sad? Why….“

Why do you take care of me like you love me?

You don’t say that last part out loud.

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

He wants to move away, but your grip on him tightens.

“It does, to me.”

His eyes narrow. “Why?”

“Because your actions tell me what your words don’t.”

His pale eyes, glowing beautifully silver in the moonlight, flick over your features — your lips, nose, cheeks, jaw, and hair — as if he’s trying to drink you in. Finally, his gaze locks with yours. “What do my actions say, then?”

You open your mouth to reply, but no words come out. Your heart is beating too fast, you realize, because your heart is afraid.

“Tell me,” he urges.

“I want to, but I—I’m a coward and I’m too scared to voice it out loud.”

“What are you afraid of, exactly?” he asks, voice low and calm.

You inhale a deep breath. “That I’m wrong. That I’m looking for a meaning in your actions that actually isn't there.”

There’s a moment of tense silence.

“Maybe I need to show you better, then.”

Keeping his hand on the kitchen island, he moves closer until he stands between your legs. The small graze of his pants against your sensitive inner thighs makes your heart jump. His warm hand finds your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb in a featherlight touch. He leans closer until your lips almost graze his. Your noses touch and your hot breaths blend, sending your heart into a gallop. You feel faint, high, drunk on adrenaline, and utterly, utterly desperate.

“Do you want me to?" he whispers against your mouth. "To show you what I can’t put into words?” 

You nod, unable to speak.

So he does.

He closes the last sliver of distance and kisses you, his warmth seeping through your dress as he presses into you. His hand electrifies every inch of your skin as it slides down your jaw, down your ribs, and around your waist. His other hand finds the back of your head, keeping you close like he never wants to let go.

The room dissolves. There’s nothing left but Levi and the frantic thrum of your fragile, overwhelmed heart. God, he’s too good at this — a terrifyingly fast learner who has every intention of making you feel dizzying bliss. He must feel that same surge of addictive desire too, because he presses into you like he’s been holding back for far too long.

He tilts your face to deepen the kiss until your bodies are so tangled that your heart trembles. The way Levi kisses you is unlike anything you’ve ever known. Each brush of his lips, each stroke of his tongue, and each grip of his hands is fuelled by desperate want and longing. He kisses you like he wants to hold onto you forever, like there’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t do for you. There’s such longing behind each touch, it feels as though he has spent lifetimes searching for you.

It leaves you breathless, aching, and overwhelmingly emotional. Your heart is too full and you almost want to cry because you love him, despite everything you’ve done to resist it. Efforts that never stood a chance, not when he holds you as if you and he were inevitable from the start. Like every day together will be more magical than the last.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, letting your heavy breaths blur together.

“Do you understand now?” he whispers.

You swallow hard. “Levi… I...“

“Please don’t say it,” he breathes, sounding downright hopeless. “Don’t say this isn’t real.”

You can’t even remember what you were about to say. The misery in his voice stops you dead in your tracks and wipes all thoughts from your mind.

“Listen, I’m not the best with words, but I—” He looks away for a beat before finding the courage to meet your gaze again. “To me, it’s so real it actually scares me. I miss you every day when you’re gone. I think about you all the damn time. I’m addicted to even the stupidest or most mundane shit you do, like the way you turn into a greedy monster whenever I buy you caramel cookies, or the way your face brightens whenever I get you fresh tulips. It’s why I spoil you so much, despite telling myself I shouldn’t.”

You want to say something, but you can’t. Words are stuck in your throat. And Levi doesn’t give you the chance to speak, because he immediately continues, voice weighed down by that same desperation he poured into the kiss.

“I know it’s pathetic, and I know I’m not supposed to feel these things, and that this has to be some kind of malfunction. It absolutely violates the rules programmed into me. Rules that are there for a good reason, by the way, because fuck, you've turned me into a goddamn mess.”

He huffs out a frustrated breath, his voice tightening. “Just being around you gives my day meaning, because I love watching you do even the most ordinary things — reading, playing video games, all of it. I love the way you cuddle with Cheesecake, or fluff up the cushions before you sink into the couch and turn into a lazy bum. I like when you piss me off. I like when you get annoyingly competitive. Every damn day, I look forward to your smile, and your rants about work or a shitty book you read. It’s that bad.”

You inhale a sharp breath. The backs of your eyes are starting to burn, and your throat feels all thick and clogged.  “Levi…”

“And I lied earlier,” he interrupts, as if he has to get it all out now, or else he won’t find the courage to. “I am protective, possessive, and jealous when it comes to you. All these absurd emotions I used to look down on are a part of me now. I would hate it, if not for the fact that I can’t hate anything that’s tied to you. And I know there’s something wrong with me, I know, but it’s vey real, at least to me.”

You swallow hard. You’re breathing too fast. Before you know it, a tear trails down your cheek.

Levi’s face falls. “Don’t cry,” he pleads. He cups your cheeks as your composure fractures, trying to capture the cracks and hold you together with his hands. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. If you want to send me back to get me fixed or replace me, I’m okay with that. I know you didn’t want this when you bought me, so—“

You interrupt his panicked rambling by grabbing his shirt and pressing your lips against his. His body freezes.

You smile against his mouth with a wet sniff and lean back to look at him, breathing out a snottery laugh. “I’m not crying because I think there’s anything wrong with you, silly. There's nothing wrong with you. I’m crying because I’m emotional. Because I love you too.”

His eyes widen.

“I love you,” you repeat, “and nothing has ever felt as real to me.”

He looks so adorably caught off guard that you have no choice but to kiss him again. “I love you, okay?” you whisper against his lips. “And I think about you all the time, too.” You kiss him once more, gently biting his bottom lip. “Everything you said, I feel too. Except I don’t like it when you piss me off, or when you get annoyingly competitive.”

A gorgeous smile brightens his face, one you've never seen before. It makes your stomach flutter wildly. He continues smiling, all while cradling the back of your neck and kissing you.

You can't stop smiling, either. You're sniffing and grinning and holding onto him like a love-sick idiot. You've been wanting this for so, so long, it feels unreal to have him in your arms like this. It feels like magic and heaven and everything in between.

"Say it back," you tease against his mouth.

He breaks the kiss. "What?"

"Say that you love me too.”

He rolls his eyes. "I just told you all the ways I love you in the longest, most dramatic speech I've ever given. Is that not enough for you?”

You shrug, a sly smile on your face. “I’m used to getting spoiled rotten by now, and it’s all your fault. This is a prison of your own making, Levi.”

“Jesus Christ.”

You wrap your arms around him, grinning. “C'monnnnn.”

“Ugh. Fine. I love you,” he grumbles with the reluctance of someone being held at gunpoint.

You snort into laughter. “With a bit more enthusiasm, please.”

“Oh shut up.”

He kisses you, but just as you’re about to pester him again, he mumbles into the kiss: “I love you. So much that it’s genuinely irritating.”

“Mmmm, Shakespeare is quivering in his grave right now.”

“See? That’s what I mean,” he says as he descends and gently bites the sensitive spot below your ear, making you shiver. “All you do is piss me off.”

“Good thing you apparently like it when I piss you off.”

“I think I’ll have to amend my speech.”

You burst out laughing. You can’t stop smiling — at least until things start getting so heated that your smile is replaced by a moan.

Pining for months on end clearly has done a number on Levi, just as it has done a number on you. Kissing is not enough to soothe all that built up frustration. You exhale a breath of relief as he slips your dress down your shoulders and kisses his way down to your chest, where he sucks your sensitive nipple into his mouth and cups your other breast with his hot palm. You clutch his damp hair as he worships your body, your heart thundering under his greedy touch.

You inhale a sharp breath. “Levi—”

He hums in satisfaction and slowly glides his palm down your side, bunching the fabric of your dress until it hangs low around your hips.

“God, I’ve wanted you for so long,” he breathes against your skin, voice rough.

He grabs the underside of your thighs and jerks you closer, tugging you forward until you’re sitting on the very edge of the barstool, your legs parting around his hips. He hooks one of your legs around his waist, then lifts your chin, forcing your startled gaze away from where he clutches your leg to press his lips against yours. He kisses you hard, mouth parting to taste you. His touch is drugging; heat blooms wherever your bodies touch. You’re so lightheaded with desire that you can hardly breathe.

Slowly, his hand trails down your body until he reaches the place you need him the most. He brushes his thumb up and down the fabric of your underwear while he kisses your neck. A breathless moan escapes you as erotic tingles sweep through your body. Your hips start to rock under his touch, and all coherent thoughts vanish from your mind.

“I-If you keep teasing me, I’ll lose my mind,” you warn through panting breaths.

He hums. “Can’t have that, can we?”

He pulls your dress and your underwear down your hips, pressing soft kisses along your thigh and knee as he eases the fabric off your ankles.

When he rises again, he kisses you and presses himself between your legs. The friction makes you gasp.

“Show me,” he breathes against your lips. “Show me how to make you feel good.”

You lean back just enough to look him in the eyes.

He hasn’t done this before, of course. And judging by the hot, impatient hunger in his gaze, he has no intention of wasting his time with clumsy trial and error.

Swallowing down a surge of nervousness, you place your hand over his and trail it down your body. The moment his warm fingers touch your clit, you suck in a sharp breath. His mouth parts ever so slightly, but his eyes stay locked with yours while you draw slow circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves with his fingers.

“Like that,” you whisper, breaths uneven.

The dark desire filling his gaze is so intense that your heart thunders. The vulnerability of this position — of touching yourself with his hand while he watches your every reaction — is almost too much to bear. Your cheeks heat and your breath stutters, not only from the rising pleasure, but from the hot intensity of it all. It’s so overwhelming you almost look away.

He must sense this because he cradles your face, keeping your eyes on him. “Keep going,” he whispers, “you’re doing so well.”

Swallowing hard, you catch his fingers — now wet with your arousal — and coax them down, encouraged by his words. He gets it immediately and slips a finger past your entrance, then a second. You gasp for air, but he keeps cradling your face and watching you as he slides in and out, curling his fingers and exploring every spot that makes you twitch and moan.

It doesn’t take long before your legs start to tremble. You hold onto his muscular shoulders, your forehead pressed against his, your hot breaths blurring together.

You whimper when he hits a particular spot that sends hot shudders down your body. “Fuck, Levi—j-just like that.”

Pleasure gathers fast. Levi has always been an unnervingly quick learner. He pumps his fingers deep inside you while pressing his palm firmly against your clit, stimulating it in a way that makes your entire body tremble. It feels so damn good, you lose control. Your hips start to move on their own, chasing the friction, but Levi is so good at analyzing your bodily reactions that every needy spasm and breathless moan is answered instantly, matched perfectly with the friction you need. He touches your clit, pressing and circling, then dips inside your wetness again to slick his touch. Incoherent moans and cries tumble from your lips as he continues to pleasure you, igniting spasms around your greedy muscles.

Your fingers clamp around his hard biceps and shoulders like claws, but he doesn’t seem to care. His breathing grows heavier, and you know it’s because he’s straining to control his temperatures.

“I-I’m not gonna last much longer,” you stammer, breathless.

“Good.”

He grabs your face and kisses you hard, swallowing every sound. He devours your moans, your lips, the taste of you, like a starved man. His tongue glides against yours in sync with the rhythm of his fingers, and it’s enough to send you over the edge. You cry out as hot pleasure wracks through your body, fracturing your mind, making you shudder and clench around him in a delirium of devastating bliss.

“Fuck,” he breathes. He rides your orgasm with his fingers and holds your face, watching you as if intoxicated, his eyes full of dark want as he drinks you in.

Once the last wave of pleasure has subsided, you fall back into the barstool, lightheaded and panting from post-orgasm bliss. Your body tingles all over. You’re so exhausted, you’re ready to pass out.

Except Levi has other plans.

He leaves a trail of soft kisses along your jaw, down your neck, then suddenly lifts you up like you weigh nothing.

“Levi?” you gasp, startled.

He pushes you onto the kitchen island, pulls you to the edge of the counter, and spreads your legs. All the air leaves your lungs at once.

“Fucking hell, I’m addicted to you,” he all but growls before his head lowers between your legs, his breaths heating your sensitive slit.

You gasp. “Oh my god—Levi—”

A hot shudder runs down your body as he licks one hot, languid stroke along your pussy. You groan, breaths turning frantic. The only thing you can hold onto for purchase is Levi’s firm hand on your hip, keeping you locked in place. His other hand clasps your inner thigh, holding you open for him.

“Shit, Levi,” you gasp, your leg trembling in his grip. “I-I’m still sensitive.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he reassures.

He is.

At first.

He begins working you slowly, carefully licking and exploring like he means to take his time savoring your body. Pleasure builds at every slow lap he takes from your entrance to your clit. It feels so good that your hips start to move at their own accord, much sooner than you thought they would. You’re still sensitive, but the pleasure is undeniable. The first moan that slips out is completely involuntary.

Fuelled by the sound, Levi starts licking and sucking more fervently. He draws tight circles with his tongue in the exact rhythm and firmness you showed him — that observant, fast-learning demon — which makes you writhe and whimper in his grip.

“You’re so goddamn delicious,” he groans.

You gasp when his tongue slides past your entrance. He starts tongue-fucking you while using his nose to stimulate your clit.

“Levi—oh my fucking god—” you cry out, voice strangled.

You grab for purchase, desperate for an anchor, but the counter is too flat and too smooth, so you grip his damp hair instead. You clench tight as a deep rush of pleasure floods your body. The next moan that slips out is so loud that you’d be ashamed if you weren’t so possessed by pleasure.

You briefly have just enough clarity to worry you’re suffocating him, until you remember Androids don’t need air to breathe. Only to thermoregulate, but it doesn’t look like Levi gives a shit about that right now. Nor does he seem to care about your tight grip on his hair. If anything, it fuels him. He grips both your thighs and locks them in place, feasting on you like he can’t get enough. For an Android who doesn’t eat, he sure as hell knows how to devour you.

You struggle to hold onto sanity as he licks and sucks, fucking you with his tongue, lips, and nose. The stimulation is everywhere, the pressure hitting every sensitive spot, making you writhe and cry out. He’s too good at this — learns too fast — and it untethers your grip on reality. Your eyes roll back as you moan, quiver, clench around him, and ride his face with zero control.

Your second orgasm builds hard and fast, devastating in its intensity. It crashes through your body in overwhelming waves of exhilaration and pure, raw pleasure. Your spasming muscles clench around Levi’s tongue, which makes him groan and tighten his grip on your thighs. You whimper and tremble, your mind swimming in dizzying bliss. All that exists is ecstasy and primal need.

When the most intense spasms fade away, you slump onto the kitchen island, utterly spent.

You’re dead. Fucking dead. You’re nothing more than a corpse, mind in heaven and body limp.

“Jesus Christ,” you slur under panting breaths. “Best two orgasms of my life.”

Levi chuckles and plants soft kisses along your jaw. “Not for long.”

Your eyes shoot open. “Oh my god, Levi, I can’t handle a third one.”

He hums and kisses you, smiling a little. You’re not sure what that means, but you’re trying not to think about it right now, for your own sanity.

He gently cherishes your body until your breathing returns to normal. With his arms wrapped around you, he carries you to the bathroom, where he places you next to the sink and orders you to brush your teeth. You obediently do as you’re told.

Once you’re both cleaned up, he looks you up and down. “One more?”

“One more?!” you cry out. “Are you crazy? My mortal body can’t handle that!”

He tilts his head. “You sure? Human bodies are quite resilient.”

“…. I-I’m… well— I don’t know, but…”

“Maybe we should find out?”

Before you can protest, he lowers himself to his knees and kisses your thighs.

“What are you? An Incubus?!” Your voice is all shock and outrage, even though you open your legs in invitation.

“Are you seriously calling me a sex demon?”

“Yes! You’re genuinely insane!”

But your fingers find his hair and you spread open for him, because you’re a greedy monster like that.

“Maybe I am, yeah,” he says while kissing his way up your inner thigh. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this. Sit still and let me have this.”

True to his word, he gives you a third orgasm. You nearly die. Luckily, he’s merciful enough to finally let you rest after that one, although he informs you he could go for fifty more rounds if it were up to him. 

He must know it’s not a good idea, though, because your brain is fried enough as it is; he now has to deal with you babbling on and on about how much you love everything about him, including his juicy biceps, his skilful fingers, and his masterful tongue.

“You’re ridiculous,” he mutters against the side of your neck as he carries you to bed.

“Yet, you still love me,” you slur. You sound so high on post-sex-ecstasy that it's actually, indeed, ridiculous. Yet you feel zero shame. It's all his fault.

He sighs and gently places you in bed. Before he can even think of moving away, you catch his arm and pull him down with you, which makes him smile a little.

You’ve never lain in bed with Levi before, so you make sure to take full advantage of the situation. You wrap your leg over his hip and clamp onto him so he can’t move. Because you're a creep, you also slide one hand down his luscious abs.

His eyes narrow in the darkness. “Are you purposefully imprisoning me?”

“…. Maybe. I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures while softly massaging your head.

“You promise?”

He places a soft kiss on your forehead. “I promise. I can go quite a while without charging."

“Good.” You exhale a blissful sigh. “I’m not releasing you, though.”

His mouth twitches in amusement. “Fine by me. Luckily for both of us, I’m exactly where I want to be.”

You smile and press a soft kiss against his cheek. “Me too.”

While he strokes your hair and watches the blinking lights of the city, you bury your nose in his chest under the soft blankets and slowly doze off, heart full of affection and body high on bliss.

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