Stick together. Be together. Stay together.
That was what she's meant to do. Be a perfect little doll. Created to stay by his side, to do whatever he needs her to do.
Stick together. Be together. Stay together.
Be a perfect doll. Perfect. Perfect...
Another lonesome night. As much as Paris adores the silence, it was too much for his liking now a days. More so when he's other half hadn't bothered tolerating him for months now.
His fingers brush against the rough surface of Ivan' table. After literally shoving his creator inside of the spare bedroom of the workshop to get some rest, the puppet was left alone with his thoughts. Polakov had gone to hid behind the shadows, while dear Y/n has gone off somewhere.
These past months had been filled with rocks and cracks. An unwanted feeling had lingered inside of him towards the other puppet. It took Paris awhile to realize.
His fingers coil and tighten to a fist. He was furious. Toys aren't able to feel any sort of emotions, after all, they were made with no hint of humane attributes.
But here he was ! In a helpless haze of admiration.
He had sent out a reply. Just a simple written reply through the poetry she had left behind. The puppet could only hope she wouldn't dare to ask him why.
Just the though of these humane sentiments made him distant. He thought, If he created a wall between Y/n and him, then maybe, his feelings would subside and end it all.
It was nothing but a phase or what he tells himself.
Paris knew better than to let this forsaken emotion sway him along. His pride prevented him to do so. He was on top of everyone after all.
His brows furrowed together, more furious by the sudden gut wrenching guilt.
Unbeknownst to him, his counter part felt the same. Polakov knew something was off from the moment those e/c eyes opened with curiosity for the first time. He found it peculiar how little reaction she has with everything that had happened. How she passively convinces Paris and himself with a plan to catch another toy.
