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Type A

Type A


With a big stretch, you marked the beginning of your lunch break. Both arms raised, back straightened in your office chair, you finally opened your eyes after that large yawn and cast them over to Connor, your co-worker.

Connor never yawned. He never did anything like that, unless it was very much deliberate. The only habit you could say he had was his coin trick, and even then, he'd explained to you before that it was done for self-improvement purposes. Keep up the dexterity in your spare time, and you'd do better when you really needed to utilize it.

You were only expressing your weariness, and yet he watched you as if you were some kind of enigma. He wouldn't tear those fake eyes away, and on the one hand you were flattered anyone would want to look at you for so long, yet on the other, you started worrying that maybe you still had some donut crumbs stuck to your cheek.

“Um...” Brushing the corner of your lip just in case, you stood up from your desk opposite his. “I'm gonna go get some coffee. I'd offer you some but...well...y'know.”

“Of course. I appreciate the offer anyway.” Connor smiled charmingly, watching as you nodded and walked off into the small kitchen area.

Androids weren't meant to be this way, yet he was smitten with you. Every little mannerism, be it a tired yawn or a cute little hiccup, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear every now and then, or the fact that you always bought the same type of donut (chocolate frosted)...he noticed them all, in great detail. Part of it was just his natural android way of analyzing everything around him. But there was definitely something more to it than that.

He knew that he had specific missions and tasks to fulfil, but while they should have been taking priority in his mind palace, you were standing there instead. Just waiting for him to do...something...

That's right. Make you his, wasn't that what needed to happen? After all, if he didn't act soon...

“Hey newbie, get me a coffee.”

You visibly grimaced when you heard him approaching from behind. This was a good, if exhausting day so far, and so the snarky tone of Gavin was not exactly welcome to ruin it. Too late for that though, as when you turned away from the machine you saw him standing right there, arms folded and smile smug.

“Well? What are you waiting for, hurry up!”

“Excuse me!?” you snapped. Usually you were pretty good at keeping your cool with difficult people, but Gavin had been calling you 'newbie' and treating you like a personal slave for a good week now. Everyone had their limits, and you were at yours, “Don't order me around, alright!?”


You were about to reach for your coffee cup when Gavin suddenly snatched your wrist and yanked it back, jerking you around to face him. “Who the fuck do you think you're talking to!?”

“Hey! Let go of me-!!”

You were in the process of trying to get free, with a plan to chuck that coffee right in his face, when someone else intervened. Out of the blue, Connor came storming over, dark eyes steely as his plastic hand shot out and grabbed the tender flesh of Gavin's throat. Stumbling back in shock as it happened, you winced as your hand accidentally landed on the draining board and grazed against a carelessly abandoned, albeit short, kitchen knife.

It was surely a hazard to have that lying around, especially with quick-tempered assholes like Gavin about, but you were less focused on the pain, and more on the fact that Connor looked fit to kill the guy who dared to bother you. He had slammed him right into the upper cupboards, holding him up off the ground with ease. His faux nails dug in and pressed hard against Gavin's windpipe, the other guy only managing spluttered wheezes.


Connor only squeezed harder. Was it anger he was feeling? was more like a cold, harsh instinct.

Evil-doers ought to be punished, after all. That was a moral code that anyone could follow, whether human or android.

“Connor, that's enough! It's fine, okay!?” you had to say something, as Gavin was going purple. Yeah, you despised the guy. But would you wish any type of death upon him? No...somehow you suspected that it would make you the worse person if you did.

The android turned calmly and looked straight at you. There was something so unsettling about how placid his facial expression was. As if he thought nothing about assaulting somebody on a whim...

“I'm grateful you're standing up for me, but please, let him go? I think he's learned his lesson.”

He continued watching you for a moment, and something briefly twitched. His ring went red a few times, processing the situation, before he looked back at Gavin. Slowly, he allowed his hand to lower, and in turn, the office bastard too.

“Guh!'ll pay for that you plastic prick!” Gavin coughed and snapped, rubbing his neck as he stumbled to his feet and made his escape. Connor only turned to you calmly, before his eyes immediately flicked to the open wound on your hand.

It was the closest you'd seen him come to emotion. Those same eyes went truly wide, his lips parting in an expression of shock. Before you could insist that you'd be alright, both of his hands shot out and grasped yours, pulling you quickly over to the sink.

“C-Connor, it's fine! It's just a little blood!” you insisted as he quickly turned the tap on. “It looks worse than it is—ahh!”

You yelped as he put your fingers under the water, feeling a sting as your fresh injury was cleaned. Connor vigorously washed your digits to the point where you teared up. Only when he noticed that did he slow down and stop, studying you worriedly.

“...I apologize. I'm just ensuring that it doesn't get infected.”

“I-I know.”

Connor was in turmoil. He may have appeared still on the outside, but internally he was a wreck of cascading waves. Humans had a term for it, 'butterflies in the stomach'. Yet this was like that, magnified, a billion times over. He felt like he was going to lose whatever brain he had. Like he was just going to go completely mad. Forget typical deviancy, this was his own way of breaking through his programming.

For he didn't care what his creator wanted. He only cared about what he wanted.


Sheepishly, you excused yourself to the bathroom after thanking him for his help, and he watched you walk out with your hand clasping your other fingers. You looked so meek and fragile as you left him there. On your was no use. You needed him as much as he needed you, Connor was convinced of that.

He glanced back at the draining board. It was communally used, so he had to wonder why an idiot would leave a knife lying there. If he found out who it was that, however indirectly, had caused this harm to you...

Though, perhaps it was also a good twist of fate in a way. For as he picked up the so-called 'murder weapon' (if the murder of your flawless beauty was concerned), he noticed that some of your blood was still clinging to the blade. Connor paused, gazing at the scarlet.

In a way, he knew what he was doing was twisted. Even if just a machine, he possessed enough self awareness to realize that the action was messed up.

Yet...he overrode any reluctant programming to satisfy that twinge, that carnal need.

Usually this was a technique he saved for necessary moments when investigating alongside Hank. Right now though, he only utilized it for the sake of knowing all the more obsessive detail about you.

As Connor ran his tongue across the blade of his knife he tasted nothing, yet closed his eyes and groaned anyway. It was more a matter of principle. Something intimate...and when it came to you, anything of that nature was satisfying for him. He was never more human than when it came to you.

Connor pulled the now spotless knife away from his lips, touching them with his other hand.

“Intriguing...” he breathed out, and broke out in an unsettling grin as he plunged the knife into the ready suds and walked out into the main office. His eyes settled on where you were already back from the bathroom, sitting at your desk and typing away carefully with your damaged hand. You may have been marred today, but you were still every bit as perfect in his deep brown android eyes.

He leaned against the frame of the door, and marveled at you from afar, as he had done so many a time before. His hand instinctively reached up, fingertip running right along his lower lip. Connor only smirked knowingly.

...Type A.

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