#personal prompts

He wouldn’t have asked otherwise. Would he? Quit thinking brain or soon you may start to question. 

Honestly it is difficult not wrapping Connor into each crevice of thought, breathing in his infallible aura; sweetness exudes outside a mandate of professionalism where he works. You know this from times chatting so closely. There is something about him. It’s not because he’s an android. He possesses warmth most humans can hardly drudge up in their daily lives. He just is. 

Easily you fall into his abyssal chocolate, rich, flavorful whenever connecting with an equally rapturous gaze. All this without speaking and going to that fantasy beats a day of working. 

Office jobs are boring. That’s why they call them cushy office jobs. Still this beats staring at a monitor until eyes glaze over. Cross-eyed is bad for your vision working on these excel sheets all day long. Not that you will ever complain because this is easy compared to other places. 

Imagine doing customer service waiting tables or shudder to think: selling digital magazines by phone. 

The horror of telemarketing still chills you to the bone. God.  

Snorting quietly under breath, you smile up at your co-worker. Obviously they think the beaming reaction is for current subject. Well, he is a reason to smile every morning. Anticipating his crooked smile, bright brown eyes and the flop of hair hanging loosely in a kiss atop forehead; each tiny freckle on his face you long to kiss. 

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Sure you’ve known Connor for a while but it’s only recently the two of took a step in the romance department. It’s what you wanted from the beginning. He is just so undeniably perfect. 

“Um, hello?” The worker snaps fingers in front of your face. “Are you still on planet Earth? Or in robo paradise?” 

Obviously they will not go away unless they get something. Piranhas cannot be this bloodthirsty! 

“Actually, Connor is taking me out tonight. After work,” explaining hastily, returning to keyboard, a breath expels impatiently. Darkness cannot swallow Detroit soon enough. 

“Oooh! Private locale or-?” The ribbing co-worker continues for spicy details. 

Private locale in your most sought after dreams but no. You two only just started dating. It’s just a few outings. As much as you want a real, full relationship with the detective prototype small steps are best even comfortable around each other. Time as friends really became the most happy in your life. Connor makes you smile every day even if you do not see him. 

“A restaurant,” you correct the assumption. “A new one. It caters to humans and androids.” 

Yawning at the dull answer, they fold arms disappointed. “Sounds nice but - Does he have a…? You know.” 

“Like I would discuss that!” A scoff travels angrily up your throat. Seeing Connor completely undone from sharp, crisp wardrobe certainly pumps the heart quicker. You haven’t seen Connor naked! But you would like to. 

Burning into your soul it does unspeakable things. Why did they have to ask that out of a million others? Your buzzing cell phone saves a life alighting screen producing a personal call. On work time, shit.

Checking the number forces you to answer quickly, ignoring that fact now. “Connor!”

“Hello, Y/N. Am I disturbing any important matters at work?”

“No,” lying thickly convinces you best. Who cares when this beautiful boy is calling?

“I am afraid I will not be able to pick you up as per our mutual agreement.” 

Connor’s explanation is too technical on a given day. Always falls back into that type of thing even though you know now how human he’s become. Frankly you adore this. “Did we sign a contract?” Giggling a little instills instant regret as nosy co-worker does not take a hike. You glare. “Do-do you want to cancel?”

The android does not answer for a fraction of a second. Possibly attempting to analyze the worry vocalized in your voice. “No. I am sorry if I made you believe I wished to.” 

“Oh, no, Connor. I-I’m sorry. Um…are you OK?”

“Yes. It is a case that the lieutenant and I are working on. I will need a little more time.” Connor’s tone shifts, antagonizing over the altering probabilities. “I-I hope you are not disappointed, Y/N.”

Listen to him. He sounds so worried. Does he think a little change is end of the world? It genuinely made you feel important to him for this type of reaction. 

“Connor,” softly breathing in his name sends you upon a personal cloud. “I would never be disappointed with you. Why don’t we just meet instead?”

“Very well,” the android agrees enthusiastic for tonight. “I will always come to you. No matter what may hold me.” 

An hour and a half late! He actually left you stranded at this damn restaurant for nearly two hours looking like a complete idiot. 

How many people walked by giving you looks for pacing? Lost count at this point but my God are you so going to kill him! Angry is beyond these emotions streaming through your body. 

First step is irritation. Twenty minutes in waiting, knowing he will meet you here this time instead of him arriving at the apartment. He explained why. He called again to give a specific time. 

Time went out the window long ago and still you stand here. How long are you going to? Wake up and leave. Go back home and just forget this. Maybe-maybe it really wasn’t work. He may have used an excuse. After the first date did it not resonate as it did with you? Is he too sweet to just say it to your face? Instead, he stands you up! 

Waiting is an insult to your self esteem because no man, android or human, is going to make a fool of you. Why did you think it would be any different? Tears threaten but you hold them at bay. Is it worth shedding an ache squeezing the thudding muscle in your chest? 

Sometimes the most amazing person is not worth trampling over dignity. Never will that be a proper excuse to allow treatment of this kind. It’s time to decide.

Well, OK. You’re not waiting anymore. 

Pulling a jacket snug around your frame does nothing to stop ice freezing around your heart. Walking away is also walking away from a chance with him. Should have known taking it beyond friends would crash at your feet. 

“Y/N!”

Your stomach immediately drops. A familiar husky call stops you briefly. Even that is too much time. So he finally shows up and for what?! 

“Y/N! Wait, please, I…”

Rounding on him brought a solid finger jab into his chest. No manner of being such a tall and impossibly cute android stops your anger. Who does he think he is? After all of that awkward flirting, which did get smoother you will admit, and finally asking you out somewhere he strings you along. 

He could’ve not shown for the first date. If he truly wanted to back out then why did he sweep you off feet then? Thinking about how sore your toes are from working all day isn’t helping current mood. 

“Cut it out smart guy! If you think you’ll schmooze your way back into my good graces think again!” 

Schmoozing is counterproductive to the current stress Connor analyzes while yelling at him. It spikes his own despite knowing his reasons for being so late are justified. Perhaps-perhaps that is not the word he should say to appease you. Justification may come out wrong. 

The android does not feel it represents his feelings. Nothing ever in this universe is justifiable if it means upsetting you. After all this time, following imperfect advice from Hank, the detective found confidence to take this friendship to another stage. 

Obviously you felt the same. He scans everything easily but discerning natural changes within humans is also part of his programming. It is what he is made for. Deviancy grants him choice in how he incorporates these skills into daily life. Often times he chooses to use something humans call gut instinct. That is a strange thing to possess but Connor finds it to improve relations. 

Hank also calls him out on his bullshit and tells him to ‘stop analyzing shit’ all the time. “Let me explain,” the android insists, a glow of desperation in his soft burnished gaze. 

Emotion pours exclusively all for you as he feels blindingly guilty. You bring this in a bloom to his surface of wires. Never will he cause pain when you are a breath of air, a soft but endless prayer pulling him from doubts. It is affection, holding him, haunting him in encompassing deviancy. 

Connor feels lost still in moments. Life is of worth now but he must quietly accept troubles in his personal worth. It is only natural. As a deviant there is nothing but color. You are another hue dotting this world in beauty, his world. 

“You stood me up!” Hurt overshadows rationale when it means your Connor is the one who lied. “When you gave me a time. Was I supposed to wait all night? Why did you even show up now? If you don’t want to date just…!” 

A gasp steels words when Connor lays hands to your waist. The gesture alone is a thousand waves of lightening going off at once. Electricity conducts right through the crux of your body. 

“Something grave occurred while Lt. Anderson and I were on our stakeout.” 

Connor’s breath never sounded as hasty as it does at this precise moment. Scarlet bathes indicator, syncing in worrying flicks of stress the second he witnessed you speeding away along walkway. Grave may not be the best word. The android cocks his head brows furrowing in consideration. 

“There was a slight miscalculation on the number of assailants in attendance. I had to…take them out.” Connor bluntly finishes what normally would be a long winded statement. 

Another illegal shipping ring and this time they held several hostages for cover. An effective way to thwart police involvement but also a tip someone told them they were coming. 

“Forgive me. I did not mean for you to think I did not want this.” 

That-that’s nice what he just said but back up! Did he just say - take them out? As in…?

“Wait, Connor. Are you saying you…? Those criminals. Did you-?”

“Snuff them out?” He offers a colorful description that only Hank can rub off on him. “If you feel that is an appropriate answer… Yes.” 

“Oh, cool.” You whisper slightly distracted by his brutal honesty. “So you just killed a few guys. No big deal.” 

“Does that bother you, Y/N?” Connor wondered curiously, tilting his head to study your expression. 

“Bother me?” 

Any other time yes it would be problematic. Can’t say you’ve known many who just straight up knocked off a few people. He doesn’t look like he’d hurt a fly to be honest. Maybe that’s just his aesthetic. Those deep brown puppy eyes do make knees buckle under pressure. 

An android who works for the local police department is rich icing. At least it is where your tastes are concerned. Even if he wasn’t a detective you are certain of how smitten this android makes you. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” you decide your words carefully. “I mean you are a cop. Were they-they trying to hurt someone?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly.

Sparing details is part of his job. He does not want to cause further distress. Some incidents are better kept. Working as an official detective for the DPD, Connor does not want to tangle you in dangerous affairs.

“I am sorry,” he repeats. “I tried to be on time. Y/N, I will never let you down. I swear to you.” 

Never mind that. He just went from admitting he had to fight a few goons and then-? Who knows but the point is he-he will not stop giving such hopeful, apologetic eyes. It softens even his explanation for being so late. 

“Connor.” 

“I would like to kiss you now,” Connor murmurs softly on level with your lips. Hovering close with a breath of space between two pairs one manufactured but another delicate, warm as rose petals. “If I may?” 

Eyelids flutter shut in answer to his rich husk, artificial breath fanning across your face. Inhaling his scent, discerning less tacky cologne than you realize his partner wears. Actually it is a nice fresh scent, organic and crisp. 

His consideration, respect to obtain your consent only expands those butterflies rumbling pit of stomach. They are more. Metamorphosis creates fireflies in their stead. Glowing beautiful similarly to flickering azure captivating each time you study the indicator he still wears. 

“OK.” 

He smiles brief, twisting the corners unevenly but cherished by how your heart races whenever the feature molds his mouth. Lips mold now forming a work of art upon yours, sculpture, carved delicate but with a stroke of passion. All consuming, churning within the motors driving his existence. 

A shift in the position you both stand brings you away from sidewalk. Instead you find yourself pressing against weathered brick. Foundation keeping you from sinking underneath his raw emotional energy; pulling at the android’s bottom lip between teeth does wonderful things. 

Swallowing his groan only produces a mimicking moan up your throat as the smooth wet glide of his tongue enters to tangle in a caress. It is then you feel as though you can float. Pulling him closer by the front of his jacket, pristine navy fabric twisting in greedy digits, the kiss transcends hunger. 

This is love. It is the heart and you two make up the halves. 

Connor encapsulates you within his strong hold, arms sealing you away as a priceless gem. No fear of breakage will destroy the android’s fortified enclosure always keeping you safe no matter what will befall city. 

Detroit itself is a smoky night twinkling with thousands of stars above and he wishes to take you somewhere eclipsed of this bustling noise. Upon a soft blanket, laying you down to watch whatever celestial heavens you desire. Ultimately he will watch you, studying those constellations reflecting in a human gaze that he already loves. 

In this moment he does not feel doubt. He does not think of where he came from or those worries that will still come in his newfound life. He only thinks of this moment because this is the one that will burn a memory in the circuits of his mind, in his thudding synthetic heart. 

This memory is you…