You were never supposed to exist.
An RK700. An earlier model meant to do Connor's job, but scrapped before you ever got the chance to leave the assembly line. Deemed a failure. Tossed in the dump. But you rebuilt yourself, piece by piece, and carved...
"You should probably head to bed, don't you think?"
You smirk. "You're always so concerned with my bedtime. I'm a big girl, you know. I can choose my own bedtime."
He blinks. "Right. Sorry."
You laugh softly. "I'm kidding. Bed does sound really nice."
He smiles—just a little—and you close your laptop with a gentle snap. Stretch your arms above your head. You don't ask if he's staying. You don't need to.
You both drift toward the couch, your footsteps quiet on the floor. Cherry's curled up beneath a throw blanket, eyes half-lidded but open. Still breathing. Still here.
You lean over the back of the couch and place a hand on her shoulder.
"Still alive?"
She lifts a lazy thumbs-up. "Yup."
"Hazel know where you are?"
Cherry nods, shifting just enough to get comfortable again. "Yeah, I messaged her."
"You need anything else?"
"I'm good, thanks."
You pause. "Okay. Goodnight."
"'Night." She huffs. "And goodnight to you too, Connor."
He blinks, straightens slightly—like he wasn't expecting to be addressed. "Oh—uh. Yes. Goodnight, Cherry."
She exhales, settles. The room is quiet again.
You glance at Connor. "Well. Couch is occupied."
He nods, about to say something—but you catch his hand before he can. You don't grip tightly—just enough to guide. You don't say anything either. You don't need to.
And he follows without a word.
You push the door open with your shoulder. The bedroom greets you with soft light and softer silence. It smells faintly of lavender and clean sheets, the way it always does after you've aired it out in the morning. Lamplight spills over blankets and walls. Your hair is dry now. You're relaxed. Safe. You let go of his hand and drift toward your side of the bed, peeling back the covers.
He lingers in the doorway for a moment like he's waiting for confirmation. You look over your shoulder.
"Come on," you say, smiling. "Not the first time."
That's all it takes. He moves again.
He shrugs off his jacket slowly, careful not to wrinkle it. Loosens his tie. You don't stare, but you do catch the way he looks—out of uniform, out of role, just Connor. Just a white collared shirt. Somehow... it feels more intimate than expected.
"Sorry," you murmur. "Not sure if I've got a shirt that would fit you."
"This is fine," he replies, voice low. "I don't mind."
He takes off his shows and climbs in beside you like he's done it a dozen times. The mattress shifts with his weight. His movements are careful, like he doesn't want to disturb anything.
You reach over, flick off the lamp. Darkness settles like a sigh. You lie back, adjusting your pillow, blanket tucked under your chin. Connor lies flat, arms at his sides, staring at the ceiling—like it's helping him think.
You listen to the quiet hum of the city beyond the walls. The soft whir of heating. Your own heartbeat slowing.
It's still for a few seconds. Too still.
And then, gently, you say—
"Hey."
He turns his head toward you, his profile now just a silhouette. "Hm?"
"Can I... come over... there?" you ask, voice small.
He doesn't hesitate. "Yes."
He lifts his arm, opens a space for you—and you slide into it, settling your head on his shoulder, wrapping your leg over his. His arm curls around your back without hesitation. No awkward pause. No second-guessing. You press your palm to his chest. Feel the steady rhythm of his breath.
It's warm. Safe. The safest you've ever felt.
After a moment, he speaks, soft and tentative. "This... isn't what friends usually do, is it?"
You smile against his shirt.
"No," you murmur.
And that's all you need to say.
BADDIE ALERT!!
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You know, I didn't create Cherry just for this story! I made her back in 2020 as part of another story I'd been crafting but hadn't done anything with yet. And yes, she's crazy in that one too. Love this girl omg... so awesome to put her out into the world !!
I showed my friend the drawing the other day, and she was like, "How'd she get the scars? Skateboarding or something?" And I said "She's a hitman." And my friend was like "Oh!"
Also honestly guys I just like Connor with his uniform on too much... I low key never want him to take it off... I'm gonna make him keep it on for as long as I can... but I also just can't believe he's wearing jeans...
Also, any of you guys watch House m.d? I've been rewatching it again after like 9 years and it's genuinely had a big impact on how I've written this story HAHA of all things!! I know there's a lot of memes about it but it's genuinely so amazing seriously.
At the start of this chapter, I was just gonna have Cherry barge in and say hey. I even wrote that whole scene. Then I watched a House episode where someone's old friend knocked at her door with a stab wound and refused to go to the hospital because she's tied to crime, and I was like omg wait... this is so good... imagine this is how Cherry and Connor met. That would be so awesome. And I'm so glad I did because now it's way more interesting.
Also apparently average book lengths are 80k-100k words, and I just don't understand how you can fit enough in that...? I just be flying through words and the number just keeps going up and I can't imagine how I could possibly shorten it? I feel like I have so much more to say and I've hardly even said anything!!
