Connor and I are drunk...
Absolutely drunk...
As we make out in the booth of this bar.
Thank God we're alone.
Connor kept his lips pressed to mine softly, as he gently caressed my cheek. "So, now you taste like whiskey," he whispered. He was straddling me across this seat again, and this time, neither of us cared how carried away we got.
"You still taste like chocolate. You really eat a lot of that, don't you?" I asked, giggling.
"Oh, of course. All the time. Hank thinks I have a problem," Connor answered, thinking. Suddenly, we both heard the sound of footsteps. Connor immediately jumped off of me, keeping his hand on his hip for his pistol. I sat up and looked at Connor, who you would think had managed to sober up in a matter of seconds. He pressed his pinky to his lip as if to shush me.
I nodded, feeling my hip for my own pistol. I got up and stood next to him. Connor moved in silence to the door and kept his shoulder next to it on the right. I moved to the left of the door. The perfect silence went for a few seconds. Until we heard footsteps outside of the bar. They paused directly in front of one of the windows and continued to walk until we heard them circle the building. When they passed by the front again, Connor immediately opened the door, and I saw a small figure. One of my height...but with long blonde hair, walking down the street. Connor looked confusedly upon her as she disappeared into shadow. The wind blew past my ear violently.
Analyzing...
Was that...me? Was that the CR400?
Connor turned to me. "Who was that? You look nervous," Connor said, grabbing my shoulders, looking at me scared.
"You look more nervous," I responded chuckling.
"I know we're...a bit off kilter, but this is important, Charlotte. Focus," Connor said. To be so drunk, he was incredibly sober.
"I don't know," I lied. Connor sighed and touched my cheek.
"Yes, you do," Connor mumbled. He extended his arm, with his skin turned off. This time, it felt much more fierce.
"No. We don't need to do that anymore. We just...need to trust each other," I remarked pushing his arm down.
"Then be honest with me," Connor said softly. He needs my honesty. Can you ever see something in someone's eyes? All I see is Connor's fear. Or...maybe it's his love. Maybe it's both. Whatever it is, it compels me.
"Markus told me about the other RK800s, and even the RK900," I explained.
"Oh," Connor said, pressing his thumb to his lip. "I suppose neither of us have been very honest."
"Connor, I never asked. I didn't care, really, because there's only one Connor that knows me and cares for me," I remarked. Connor paced a bit.
"So then what does it have to do with her," Connor asked gesturing to where the figure had walked off to.
"They were planning to replace me," I began.
"That's the CR400. Isn't she deviant?" Connor asked confused. "Couldn't they have helped her?"
"Isn't there something...wrong about forcing someone to become deviant? Especially in my scenario?" I asked.
"So they didn't neutralize her on principle? On fucking principle? They put you in danger on motherfucking principle?" Connor asked frustrated. I winced hearing him swear. Twice at that.
"No, Connor. She disappeared in seconds. They didn't even get a chance to talk to her," I explained.
"Then why didn't they tell me?" He asked, and I could hear the strain in his voice. The anger, the frustration...
"They didn't want to scare or upset you," I explained, fiddling with my fingers.
"Well, both those things are happening," Connor said crossing his arms. "I could've been protecting you. Erasing our steps. Keeping her off your trail. Instead I've been bullshiting because no one even thought to mention to me."
"Connor, I'm sorry," I said, trying to comfort him.
"Yeah. Sure. Whatever," he snapped. His pacing picked up. He suddenly paused. "I'm sorry. That was unnecessary. Thank you for your apology, but you're not even to blame. No one...is to blame, really. I just wish things had been different."
"Connor..." I mumbled. I don't know what to do. He simply sighed.
"I...want to take you home. I want to protect you. At the same time, I just can't be around you right now. I'm frustrated. I need to think," Connor explained. He touched his LED for a moment, then turned to me. "I called you a taxi. Go home, and be careful."
No walk home? Just...into a taxi.
"No," I said simply.
"No, what?" Connor asked, irritated.
"I'm not fucking walking away from you. We deal with shit together. We don't-"
"Charlotte, go home," Connor said interrupted.
"No!" I answered. He's not doing this. He's not just walking out.
"You were without me for 3 days. What does it matter?"
"And I don't want to spend another day without you. Listen, Connor...I don't know how to say this...but I don't want you to just leave. To just get frustrated and decide that you never want to see me again-"
"Never? Oh...Charlotte, no," Connor said, suddenly soft. He walked towards me and took me into a hug. "Charlotte, I just meant...I need to think. I don't think I can do that while also worrying about your safety. If I send you home, I know I can trust Deputy Lance not to let anything happen. I'm sorry. I won't leave you. I'll never leave you."
I sighed deeply. "Okay," I answered. He quickly kissed me.
"I love you, Charlotte," He said quietly.