[Insert Title Here] Paris x Reader Oneshot Book..(The Dummy's Dummy)

I'll Always Be With You

        It's that Pinnochio AU that no one asked for :D

     Another request like thing with editor Jean. She gave the idea, we both gave it some plot points, (mostly her) and it was getting big enough to create a oneshot!
  
   Context: (Somewhat like Pinocchio Au!) You are somewhat like Ivan, (except you don't have the ability to create the exact opposite.) and being lonely, you decided to create a friend for yourself, that being Paris. ..........But there's a problem. He doesn't really like you. (For this one, it's a female reader!)
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      She's ingesting something again.

     How odd. I stared at her back for a while, wondering what it was she was ingesting, before quickly looking back down onto my book when she turned around.

     Deciding not to bring it up, I just stay silent, trying to reimmerse myself in my book. Besides, it's better than having to talk.

     Until she decided to break it.

    "Hey, Paris...."

    "Yes?" I snap.

     She hesitates after that one, and after seemingly finding her words, she sadly tries again.

    "I...Just wanted you to know that I'll be gone for a good chunk of the day tomorrow.. In case you wondered where I was..."

     I look up at her now, blinking. Then, nodding, I go back to my book. "Well, thank you for letting me know." I don't even bother to ask why she'll be gone. It's probably not important anyway.

     I see her smile in the corner of my eye. How foolish. Why do I have to be the one that has to play the role of a 'friend' here? I just don't see why any human would seek a friend made out of wood instead of their own species.

   Besides, aren't humans supposed to live with each other to prevent each other from going insane?

   I almost laugh at this, because I have living proof right here. My maker, alone, ever since she made me. Or even before that.

It's only been what, a good 4 years since I was created? My creator has never interacted with almost anyone since then. Actually, I don't think she even talks with her family.

It's laughable. Pathetic.

I can't understand. Won't, even.

I feel my eye twitch in annoyance. My hands gripping the book tightly. I'm that irritated just by thinking about it?

    Not interested in reading anymore, I make sure to mark the page I left off of before closing the book, setting it down on the table. Leaning back onto my chair with a sigh, my creator picks up on my behavior.

     "Is there something troubling you?"

    I cross my arms. "Nothing that concerns you."

    She frowns at that response, but inevitably drops it, instead taking a piece of paper off of her many piles of paper, beginning to fold it it into some object.