SEQUENTIAL ━ Connor // RK800 ✔️

seventeen ━ when in doubt, test

"An apple?" Mia looked back at him, and if he didn't know better, Connor would have said she has been on the verge of tears too often lately. It felt an awful lot like failure to him to make that assessment on how humid and glassy her eyes looked again, and he wished, for just a single second of weakness, that he could add making her smile onto his task list.

"You're not the only one who worries," he tilted his head to the side, his gaze slipping down to her cheek and unfortunately being immediately forced to linger on the new red spot her fair complexion has gained. Though he has long since confirmed through his scans that Mia's eye had suffered no injury, that did not erase the presence of the little cuts the grip of the pistol had splintered above her cheekbone. There were traces of blood still bubbling out of the stronger cuts left behind, as her body was working hard to heal the superficial wounds.

Superficial or not, Connor thought, those cuts must hurt.

He had to force himself with all his might to not let the silence linger uncomfortably and instead lift his gaze back to hers. "You haven't been eating enough," he stated the fact, a little taken aback by the guilt with which she averted her eyes from looking at him. "It's not healthy to go this long without sustenance. You should probably eat the apple to stabilize your levels of vitamins before we arrive at Mr. Kamski's home, where you should have a proper meal."

"I'll live," Mia turned towards the bag and dropping the apple back inside, she searched further, past the ragged laptop.

His goal of pristine obedience had been immediately postponed given her reaction of clear dismissal to his fair assessment on her health. If she wouldn't listen to his caring tonality, perhaps she would be more inclined to believe his professionalism.

Connor reached his left hand out and, removing the synthetic skin from his fingertips, he took upon them a sample of her still fresh blood, so distinctively standing out over her skin. There was an undeniable sensation of hurt he had to ignore when he felt her flinch upon the intrusion, but before she could truly protest against his approach, Connor had already placed the sample on his tongue, swiping his finger clean.

It only took him what would count as a blink of an eye to process the analysis results and speak them outloud, lowering his hand and reactivating his synthetic skin over it, "Glucose levels in your blood are approaching hypoglycemia, which will prompt in the near future prolonged headaches. I can also detect high electrolyte imbalances."

"Connor," Mia sighed, but he did not let her attempt to interrupt him stop him from finishing speaking his mind

"Though you will live, yes, you are clearly not fine. I need you to start taking this seriously, Mia."

Connor got faced with the least expected scenario once he called out her name — Mia returned to looking inside the bag. There was no reply, not even an acknowledgement that she understood the point he was trying to get across to her, at least not for a good while since she unzipped the side pockets of the bag one by one. Only once she caught a glimpse of their picture he packed next to the handful of bandaids that have been in that pocket of the backpack since middle school did Mia finally close her eyes and stop her hands over them.

"An apple won't solve all the problems you listed there, Connor," she mumbled along. "We don't have the time to worry about my needs."

"You worry about mine."

"That's different," Mia argued instantaneously, looking at him over his shoulder in time to see his eyebrows raise at finally meeting her eyes.