Ecstasy - Connor x Reader Detroit: Become Human

(Extended) Chapter 6: Torn

Shielded by a wide black umbrella, the woman stood alone in her white dress, staring intently at the grave in front of her. Amanda Stern. Engraved in the obsidian stone, words recorded the last day she roamed the earth in such intricate text. February 23rd of 2027.

The visitor longed for her voice to be heard again. To hear a sound of comfort from her past beloved figure. Yet she stood there, solid, and cold. Not heartless, for she couldn't simply ignore what she actually felt. One of her many flaws, she thought. Rain picked up, pounding on the black shield hanging above her head.

That piercing honey yellow gaze she had would forever expose the emotions surging through her. Most people hardly recognised it as a weakness, yet the rest that did stumble upon it would rather pretend they didn't.

Sheets of ice covered the squished grass that lay crushed beneath her white heels. She remained motionless, mimicking the sturdy material, and refused to shiver from the decreasing temperature. Amanda and the woman were similar to the point Kamski often mistook the girl for his professor.

How those eyes twirled in fascination, the splash of freckles that kissed her cheeks and how she presented her enchanting demeanour; these major details carved her well-known signature.

Regularly, Kamski drifted through the abandoned graveyard grounds, and he usually bumped into her as she exited. During those few instances they accidentally clashed, he caught sight of this unreadable expression each time she read the stone. Tense body language, damp cheeks that mixed with the rain and her tears... followed by a blank, hollow glare.

This month, not a tear has been shed by her. In her personal version of easing that pain, she began to carefully craft her personality with years of grief threaded deeply into it and utilised it as her own statue of hope. Somehow, it transformed into a weapon.

This fabricated hope trickled into her work, and it continuously grew evident unintentionally. Fiddling in her hands was a transparent crystal bracelet, gifted by Amanda. A sense of disturbance narrowed her gaze.

"Damira."

Her figure stiffens, and searches for the familiar voice. "Kamski?" She realised, withdrawing her bracelet. "What are you doing here?" She chuckled in an empty tone, moving in for a hasty welcoming embrace. "Thought I'd drop by," he declared, sparing a soft glance at her and the grave. "It's... been a while."

After their pleasant reunion, they already descended into despair as the carved name haunted them. From the visits she paid here, she assumed that she got used to seeing that name already. A hole opened up inside her chest that drew indescribable emotions, and acknowledging it disgusted her. Currently, what she had left was CyberLife, Kamski and the RK900. But between her and her mother? Simply a pesky bracelet and a borrowed name.

Knowing that these were her last connections to the person that built her childhood and the foundations of her reputation, it crushed a part of her. That heart beating faintly within her breast hung on a singular string and she couldn't it conceal it here. Not with Kamski reading her entire thought process through just a few seconds of a shared gaze.

It baffled Damira on how much time she spent living her dreams, away from her mother. On a few occasions, she worked tirelessly in hopes of seeing another image of Amanda in her head. Any co-worker you could ask has noted that her strange behaviour has been consistent, and it costed her weeks of sleep.

"How many times have you been here?" He wondered aloud, pity behind his gaze. "Too many times, I've lost count," she confessed, rubbing bags under her eyes. His hands steadied her, holding onto both her shoulders. "We need to talk; our gathering has been long overdue." A weak smile swept over her dimples, "Coffee?" And Kamski matched her uplifted stance. "Of course."

Retreating to Damira's vehicle, they roamed the graveyard and continued to talk. "I assume you've been busy with CyberLife, and so I'd rather keep that subject out of today's conversations. So, tell me, what have I missed these past few months?" He enquired, rubbing his hands together.

Damira always had something special going on or conjured up a new pile of secrets through the streets of Detroit. Her yellow gaze shot up, clearly alerted as her mind emptied out mentions of upcoming plans and schedules.

"Well," she choked, "I've taken a liking to your personal bar at the tower... and I've been from party to party for a few weeks," Damira searched for more answers in her head. "Oh! And I've improved the RK900 series greatly," a proud look crossed her features. Kamski tilted his head in a sarcastic manner as she clearly ignored his request. "Sorry Elijah, I've been in the office for prolonged amounts of time," She apologised after taking in his response.

Damira's driver ushered them into the limousine and kicked up the engine. As they rolled onto the road, Kamski fixed himself a bottle of water. "Tell me about the parties," he mused, eager for her response. Her leg crossed over the other and her mind dived into a recollection of the events.

"They've been interesting, Chloe danced with me a lot. Who knew that it had quite an amazing dance program? The choreography is on the brink of being too spotless. Mostly it had to tone it down a little, it kept attracting too many guests."

Kamski watched her explanation of multiple parties she attended and became easily amused. Her childlike wonder remained with technology since the day she first began her studies. Anything in regard to how androids worked and how anything else operated, she never stopped talking about it unless somebody deliberately brought her out of those topics.

However, she still failed to recognise androids as people. That made her captivating to Kamski and her co-workers. Perhaps the girl mimicked Amanda's ideologies when they used to live together. Of course, in his perspective, Damira would forever be an eager apprentice, but giving her control of CyberLife might change that. A chance, he thought, to differentiate herself from her mother. Time ticked by when she dominated the conversation of her fascination over androids.

To any other perspective, Damira Stern intimidated those in and outside her line of work, but once you really knew her, you'd think that she lived as a harmless ball of energy. Especially when her guard is down, and you knew her for quite some time.

But... nobody could ever truly know her, for she wore countless masks. When a situation demanded a unique approach, she swapped her mask to answer it. Damira has created such an abundance of faces that she herself cannot find the real soul inside of her identity.

What makes it worse is that she is perfectly content about it.

The last glimpse of the true Damira died long ago, specifically when Kamski revealed the truth of how Amanda really spent her last breath. A tragic malfunction of the first androids. He watched her suffer, and months of therapy couldn't fix his headspace and the pictures that haunted him at night. Panic flashed over Kamski, it lasted a heartbeat, and soon he recovered herself without Damira's notice.

That subject is forbidden in such casual talks between them.

The girl could easily sense whenever Kamski's mind fortuitously discovered it without meaning to, and her whole being, without fail, twisted completely into some... stranger. It cracked her flawless surface and darkened her personality significantly. Any sign of being troubled, and just like that, they knew what they really felt. Together, they couldn't suppress themselves.

This car ride proved fortunate for him, it ended as Damira summarised the most recent gathering that proved to be such a wonderful experience to her. "We're here," the driver announced, sliding the vehicle into a parking position. The nearest door flew open, and the driver stayed seated, busied by his holographic newspaper.

Kamski and Damira exited the dimly lit limo and made their way to the same coffee shop they've visited for years together. "Those parties seem to be extremely interesting, Damira. Perhaps you'd have to invite me to the next one to build onto these intriguing subjects," he joked mockingly, since literally half her explanations described her independent studies of androids and CyberLife.

If the law forbid Damira to discuss such concepts, she'd do it anyway. She snickered at him and pushed open the glass doors causing a bell to ring out behind it. "What will it be today?" They cast their smiles at the worker by the counter, "We'll have the usual, thank you," and Damira slid her card automatically, not a care for the price.

The staff began their orders in a rushed pace. Kamski found their seats up the top of the stairs and sat by the window with her. The shop belonged to them since no customers were here this morning. Spending days away from each other made it easier for their secrecy, but it damaged their true connection. Today, Kamski intended to change that by strengthening their bridge.

Staff flew their hands around to prepare their beverages, they patiently waited. Like they usually have, they went on and on about how distinct their lives were and updated each other with general news and scandalous information. The world ceased to exist when they talked.

A figure stood out in the rain, eyeing Damira down. Her eyes drooped and from across Detroit, she could faintly hear CyberLife demanding her countless orders. Request more supplies, monitor the development of androids, ensure the staff are on task, finish incomplete stacks of papers. In fact, every stack she had in her office were filled to the brim with confidential research. Damira might as well joke that the papers are decoration since there's so much of it.

"Damira..." Kamski sighed, rubbing his temples, "Please, not again." Her eyes stared down at the figure, dressed in his bright RK900 uniform. It began to approach the building, the bell had sounded its alarm from the door, and it climbed the stairs to meet them. "Kamski, you know how important this is to me, more than anyone else," she said, emotionless.

"Damira Stern," The RK900 took a slight pause, gazing at her, then taking her hand in its to kiss. "900," She returned, gracefully taking back her arm. "I've acquired reports of... the requested whereabouts. Would you like me to present it to you?" It gestured to the parchment in its grip. Kamski furrowed his eyebrows, silently begging her to ignore the question.

"Show me," she insisted, remaining neutral to both of them.

The RK900 guided her away from Kamski while the staff hurried over to pass him coffee. The android spread out the material, presenting a pinpointed spot by a wiped off area. "Finding this proved to be a challenge, if it weren't for the androids I've placed throughout Detroit, this report would've taken longer to accomplish," The RK900 brushed its fingers against the paper and inspected it intensely with its cold eyes.

"What's our next move?" It informally requested, viewing her scan of the parchment. "For now, we will observe from afar. If you learn anything else that's valuable, tell me directly. Perhaps our analysis of the RK800 wasn't completely accurate," she covered her mouth, trapped in her mental cage of ideas.

After five minutes of consideration, she signalled to Kamski and started down the stairs, "Duty calls," she managed, tiredly. The RK900 swiped her coffee and got the staff to pour the drink into a take-away cup. The limo rumbled alive, and its wheels merged into the streets of Detroit, leaving Kamski at the window and a vacant seat accompanying him. He drank alone, quietly protesting.

Expected, he thought, she's changed so much, Amanda.



- - - -




Sharp buzzing from every direction spread grimace over me. A faint call shot out, and a silhouette blocked the sunlight that trickled onto our skin. Sudden warmth burnt my cheek, and it sent my eyes fluttering open in surprise.

Markus pressed his green and blue gaze onto mine. Again, I fluttered my eyes, caught in the belief that I'm stuck in a dream. "(Y/N)," he murmured, "Are you awake?" My legs pushed against the mattress to sit upright in bed. "Am I awake?" I asked dumbly, not knowing what to do.

His arm reached out to mine, and pinched my skin for a brief moment, shooting out a sudden pain. "What the- what was that for?" I winced, irritably pushing my arm away from his reach.

"Ensuring that you're actually alive. See, for the past few days you've developed a constant pattern of fainting and I've never found it so difficult to tell if somebody's conscious. You do realise you talk and act like you're awake in your sleep, don't you?" He lowered his tone playfully, going back to the window. "Where's Connor? Didn't he promise that he was going to be here-"

"When you're awake?" Markus intervened, turning away from the glass, "Yes, he did promise that. North had to borrow him for an issue, but he's been up the whole night watching over you. He asked me to stay for about... 10 minutes? Connor was hellbent on staying here but North had to talk to him, it was urgent." Markus placed his hands on his hips, examining the room.

He retrieved a laptop and began typing away in a seat nearby. "Would you like me to let him know that you're awake?" He offered, keeping his sight stuck on the screen, "Of course, I..." He waved his hand upward to hush the next few sentences, and his LED blinked yellow and blue in a rapid rhythm. "Sorry, you were saying?" He teased, now looking up from his device.

"I need some answers here because it looks like I'm the only one left in the dark compared to you three. I haven't one fucking clue on what's going on here and nobody's had the decency to tell me why I'm here, why Connor is here, and who you people are," I seethed, gripping the bedsheets tightly to contain my annoyance.

"Well, you know my name is Markus, we don't work for CyberLife and you're here because you can't afford to lose Connor since you're forming an investigation around him. Oh, and Connor is here because of North and the message she delivered the other day. Unlucky that you caught the worst of her little 'explosion', don't worry, she'll apologise soon enough," he explained, and returned to the laptop screen.

Frustration possessed me and I grabbed a hold of his collar, squeezing it firmly so that it shortened his breath. "Listen here, smartass. I may be a be a bit deaf and bloodied up, but I sure as hell don't need your attitude this early in the morning. If you want to avoid being ripped apart piece by piece, I suggest you hold your tongue and tell me exactly why I should trust the likes of you. You could be just as bad as CyberLife."

Markus inched closer and pressed his forehead against mine with his hand practically crushing my bones, "Well it looks like you hit your head a bit too hard, because if it weren't for me, you'd be down at CyberLife tortured half to death by now," he growled, with anger building up inside him each passing second, "North and I are your only hope and if you don't accept our aid, we'd happily toss you to Miss Stern's front doorstep in the next hour if we have to. If you bear with us, we'll get over this misunderstanding eventually."

"And to add on with that," he continued, a smirk became present on his face, "Nobody would care if a detective went missing, but you'd get executed on the spot if my people knew you contributed to my disappearance." Being in a position of power was something I became too familiar with, it's uncommon to have been contested and cornered like this. Markus got on my nerves, and it pained me to sit there, speechless. Another word out of me, and I'd be digging myself a deeper hole.

He kept that stupid smirk glued onto him because he was aware of how restricted I became. My teeth sank into my bottom lip, trying to suppress the adrenaline running through me. Hurried footsteps led up to the door and the metal groan of the entrance redirected our attention. Connor stayed holding the handle and formed a questionable bewildered glance at us and the strange situation.

"Detective?" Hearing his voice broke my grip from Markus's shirt and I pulled away. His LED flashed red, his eyebrows furrowed, and he fixed up his tie. "What happened here?" An edge of concern snapped through his tone.

Markus and I exchanged a final look at each other and pushed our gaze to Connor, "We were going through..." Markus began, eyes darting to the carpet. "A 'misunderstanding', like you said," I cleared my throat, still battling the urge to paint the ground blue with his blood.

Markus's tense expression loosened slightly at my response and reinforced my answer, "Yeah, a misunderstanding," he agreed. Markus switched off his computer and headed for the exit, "I'll give you two a moment alone." His green eye peeked through the door's gap until it swung to a close.

At first, his unusual presence charmed me, however, as soon as he kept rambling on and how he shoved me into a corner, a tinge of hostility sparked in me. It won't last forever, but god, I hated how he talked to me right then. Thankfully Connor came back before anything horrible happened.

"Detective, I'm so sorry I kept you this long and that I wasn't here-"

He cut himself off, thinking of every possible answer he could voice to me, and his LED kept hot red. "Look, I thought..." Oh Connor, what a mess you are. Taking a glance at his troubled expression, I threw the blanket aside and planted my hands on his shoulders to steady him.

"I'm just glad you're safe, honestly," I breathed, hooking my crooked fingers on his chin to face him toward me. "You don't have to explain."

"I'm glad you're safe too," he grinned.

The tightness in his chest dropped and he eased at my touch. It caught me off guard saying that, but I've been covered in so many bruises and hurt so much that I'm too weary to care. "You should get back to bed, (Y/N)," he recommended, breaking the silence in the room. He removed himself from my bandaged arms and helped me toward the bed and under the covers.

Under his breath, he whispered something low enough that I couldn't understand it. Connor placed the chair closer to my side and leaned forward in his seat. "I'm okay, really," I confirmed, mostly to reassure him.

"Are you cold?" He stammered, beginning to perform checks over my body for additional injuries and temperature changes. Unexpectedly, a nervous giggle got drawn out of me, and Connor faintly smiles at my reaction.

"Trust me, I'm alright. Anyway, for an android, you sure as hell worry a lot" I pulled the bedsheets up and made myself comfortable. His lips part while his LED whirrs yellow. "Well, you're badly damaged, and it's only normal to take on a gentler approach around you when you're hurt."

"Back to the promise," Connor quickly began, not wanting to continue the previous discussion. He adjusted his seated position. "Where would you like me to start?"

I dug into my mind, thinking of the recent events we've witnessed. Images of the explosion crept into my head, and I couldn't handle the questions that built up inside. "Well, I'd prefer if you told me why North sent a copy," I answered slowly, and his LED flipped to yellow and red.

"Apparently she knows me and claims to have answers I've been looking for. To not risk her being found out by CyberLife, she sent a copy to give Jericho's location to me and in the process, gave me a few scattered memories she had during the revolution. North told me that she'd rather explain the rest to you, it's very personal to her," Connor still held my gaze, curious for my next answer, "Then, could you explain what you wanted to show me... back at the precinct?" Surprise flashed across him temporarily and he offered his arm reluctantly. "Of course. I've been meaning to tell you for a few days now."

"What am I to expect?" I gestured to his pale white hand nervously, he notes my behaviour and attempts to calm me, "It's the same as holding my hand, (Y/N), that's it." A pink blush paints my cheeks and Connor observes my flustered body language in raised eyebrows. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Oh," he stared blankly. "It's as if you're undergoing a conscious dream, in this case, we'd only be reviewing a few pieces of memories I've recovered. I hope that you're... fine with that?" I nod briskly and slowly offer my arm to him.

Arm hairs raised at our electrifying connection. "The experience varies when this occurs to a human and android exchanging memories," he whispered softly, as his pale white skin reached my palm. "If there is any sense of discomfort or you're not seeing what you're supposed to, tell me immediately."

"What's that supposed to-"

White plastic spilled onto my skin, and it merged my arm in his. Anything in the room began to glitch from side to side and colours flickered through the objects. Connor's body sank into the chair, and soon the floorboards began to liquify. A pit appeared in the centre of the room, and the bed instantly got dragged into the middle of it.

A bump formed in my throat, and I lost the ability to scream. I kept falling and flailing my arms about until I slapped the surface of an endless ocean. Rising back up to breathe, I found myself in the same river where I first rescued Connor. His eyes met mine, then a pair of rusty chains swam to the surface to secure my ankles and it clawed me downward.

It kept going deeper, I couldn't breathe. Cuts formed on my skin, and a trail of red had flowed into the water. At the bottom, I found the post where the chains ended. No use, my hands couldn't undo its grip on me. Shards materialised from the damp sand, and it shredded the metal to pieces, freeing me in result.

Afraid of the deadly shards that could effortlessly to slice me to shreds, I pushed into the opposite direction. Frantic bubbles covered my vision. The shards combined and formed into a gigantic arm, and it trapped my legs in its grip.

This isn't normal. Can't even recognise what kind of world I'm in. Drawing me in close, another hand formed next to it. Dread crept up my legs and my stomach dropped, knowing where my fate led, squished from the shards.

As my body swung into the next hand, I awaited to be flattened... and nothing came. Wind brushed my body and I looked up to find a circular portal hovering in the sky. Water splashed onto me and saw that the palms led me through a portal, rather than an abrupt death.

It landed me into a pile of snow in a secluded street somewhere in Detroit. First few years of my career were kept on patrol, and it's been years since I've witnessed an unfamiliar street. Chants echoed in the next area, full of celebratory shouts of rejoice and a remarkable speech laced into it. Markus. The androids. The revolution. November 11th, 2038.

Escaping the secluded street, I leapt toward the cries and gasped at the scene from afar. Thousands of androids gathered around the group that gazed at them from the top of a cargo container. There they were, North, Markus and Connor, including two other strangers.

Their personalities were so distinct and so passionate, I became captivated and listened to them at the far end. On the brink of provoking a war of humans and machines, and they remained united, creating history.

In his speech, I too felt that I fought alongside him although I didn't experience or understand their pain of being resented and alienated. Vaguely, I recall viewing this scene high above in a building, accompanied by countless watchers, in astonishment of how confident Markus strode as bullets ate away at his arms and companions.

Hypnotised, I sank into his emotional display toward his allies. News reporters flashed their cameras at them and excitedly chattered about how this event would impact CyberLife internationally. During the speech, I caught a sight of Connor pulling a gun to aim at Markus's head and forced it away. A scowling ghost appeared next to him for a fleeting moment of time, gritting her teeth.

Connor lived as an entirely a different person, acting cold and reserved. Perhaps it's my perspective of the speech, yet I couldn't recognise how he was back then, compared to the present, it heavily contrasts. Turning my back on the sight, I failed to believe that this was the full extent of the memories Connor had left.

When I changed my position, I became drawn into an unfamiliar police department. A late-night shift, easy enough to read. Connor rested on a table, talking with who I assume his past partner. None of their words could be translated, so I let the scene unfold to interpret it in an alternative manner. His partner's chest heaved, and he began yelling at Connor, stressed out of his mind.

The precinct stayed isolated for them to hold their heated debate. Scrambles of their voices could now be understood. Their conversation led to how the officer hated some aspect of the RK800, a mention of recognition and other unknown details. Briefly, the precinct blended into his house and the same officer aimed a pistol at his head.

Connor broke into the window, lurching toward him to stop him in time. Too late. The shot launched straight into his head, spilling blood out of his scalp. Knees slapped the tiles, and soon his body slumped to the ground. Connor lay on his knees, hands covered in blood, mixed into his thirium that got cut from the window.

Detective? Echoes surrounded my skull. Why does this feel familiar? With widened eyes, my hands began to tremble. The scene flickered back and forth to Hank's house and the current scene. Never mind, we should wake him up. Then Hank's house fades, leaving Connor bawling his eyes out at the deceased officer on the floor.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen," he croaked, wiping away his tears. "God, I'm so sorry," he kept repeating, shattered at his previous actions. As his hands shook, he observed his human and robotic hand, comparing it side by side.

He let out a cacophonous scream that made my ears sync with his indescribable sobs. Barely heard the wailing police siren outside, the environment shifted and spun into a distorted setting. A shred of his relentless agony entered me, and its effect severely winded me.

Officers barged into the door, demanding the explanation of the fellow officer's death. Connor withdrew his emotions and calmly explained his suicide. The body was retrieved, and the android carried on at the police department. Months later, his manager offered the opportunity to accomplish investigations on his own.

He took the chance immediately and kept at his work. Case after case, he finally encountered Markus. Looking lost and hopeless, he abandoned the gun directed at the android leader and joined him after concluding a tense conversation.

Before their interactions were played out, the scene transitioned to CyberLife. Red and blue flashed outside of the main CyberLife building and Connor reported his beliefs that the organisation needed to be investigated further.

End scene. From being wrapped up in pitch black darkness, it transitioned to an RK900 wrapping Connor up in a chair and a blurred face in the background. "Have we acquired everything?" The RK900 roams his sight up and down Connor and responds, "Yes, that's all there is to it."

Another question begs her answer, "What do you suggest we do now?" Her hands snap and two armed guards appear at her sides. "Throw it in the river, anybody who discovers it won't be able to access it regardless."

The men obey her command and dump him onto two agents. Packed securely into a van, the engine roared and soon they darted through Detroit to finish their task. Doors swipe open, hands grab him, and his body submerges in water.

"And that's where I found you," Connor murmured, placing a hand on my back. A shrill gasp comes out of me, "Fucking- damn it- Connor. Please, give me a heads-up next time." He nods, taking a glance at the last scene.

Finally, the area bleeds out and returns us back to the bedroom and not sparing a second, I whipped my hand back, heavily breathing. "Holy shit," I panicked, holding the blankets tightly, straining my wrapped arms whilst beads of sweat fell down my forehead. "It's what I showed Fowler. He experienced a similar process but usually a human connection sends an anxious reaction afterward. Rare that he didn't."

"Forget about me being okay, how the hell are you functioning?" He shrugs at my question, "I have no emotional attachment to these memories, and they have close to no effect on me since I can barely relate to it, let alone decipher them." My heart pounds, straining my chest. "Apologies for the beginning, I saw the strange start you endured and had no control to adjust it."

Instantly I threw the blankets to scan my legs and found no fresh cuts across my flesh. "That process hurt me, I thought- I thought it was real..." I stared oddly at him and my limbs.

"Is there anything I can do to lower your stress levels?" Connor hesitantly spoke up, "No, I'll be fine in a bit, just give me a minute," I waved my hands about, wiping my forehead. A moment of silence swung into the room, and I took deep breaths until I could calm down.

"That was..." I trailed off, "A lot," Connor finished for me. "I understand, and it's probably best that I didn't show you that in the precinct." A flicker of the precinct settled into my head, "Yeah, Gavin would've bullied me for weeks if he saw how shaken-up I am."

Shit, I should return to the office soon. Fowler won't let me spend too much time off otherwise I'll grab horrible shifts and an extra workload. God, why am I thinking about work? Connor's memories have startled me and in return it's got me thinking about the DPD to cope.

Connor sits inaudibly, chewing on his lip. "You're not the only one to be shaken-up about it at first. I've gathered these memories mainly from Markus and North's assistance." He sighed, clenching his jaw. "I'll admit it, I ended up shutting down for a minute or two."

"Is... is that why it took you a few minutes to return from North?" He nodded shamefully, holding his heads in his hands. No wonder why he could barely breathe upon entry.

Dragging him to stand from his seat, I caught him in an embrace. In return, he held me carefully in his arms, allowing me to bury my face into his upper body.

"No matter what, I'm going to help you Connor. I'll make sure of it. We're going to find who did this to you and I'll solve this case with everything that I've got. You didn't deserve this, not one bit." I started trembling from my speech, placing my soul into each individual word.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he stammered slightly, holding me closer, shaking a little when he did.
"Thank you for helping me."

"Don't thank me just yet," I pulled away, to gaze fondly at his watery chocolate brown eyes.
"We're going to solve this, together."