Could I love you?

Blind

A few days have passed.

I greet Hannah, the blonde woman, as she passes. Her green eyes are filled with weak light, as she smiles at me. Poor girl. She was the one fleeing Mr. Hanning's office the other day. She still walks with a limp in her step.

I turn back to the window, wiping vigorously at a grimy stain. A spider that was squashed long ago. Mr. Hanning hates spiders, and kills any in sight.
I guess we just never noticed this stain.
The acrid stench of the glass cleaner stings my nose. I have to learn to stop breathing. These lungs of mine don't need oxygen.

"Hello,"

I turn to greet Max. The bruise on his cheek is fainter than before, but is spotted with purple and blue. I wince at the sight, but manage a response. "Hello,"
He smiles, and takes one of the rags that I had tucked under my utility belt. "Why are you wearing that?" He asks, starting to clean the windows. I shrug, but am shocked by my action.
"Well...it holds stuff.." I stammer. "So it does.. uh, help with cleaning."
He laughs, brown eyes flicking to me. I keep my eyes trained on the pane I clean. "Are you still worried that I harbour resentment for you?" He asks. I sigh, nodding. "I am sorry," I say. "Even if it was an order, it still feels personal."
"Huh?" He asks, sounding surprised. I wonder what he's had to endure to be past this.
"I'm sorry, that's all." I mutter. He sighs, before batting blonde hair out of his face.
"I don't blame you, that's all." He grumbles. "Plus, you did give me medical attention."
I can see him smirking at the half joke, as if he's trying to make me smile. I don't, simply nodding. Oh, Max... I'm sorry.

He sighs, and turns his attention back to the window. Soon enough, our movements sync. Right hand, moving slowly in counter-clockwise circles.
We don't talk much, but can't seem to leave either. Even when I finish, I don't walk away.

I tuck the grey scrap of cloth under my belt. Max is still cleaning; still scrubbing at the stain he has found. I place the bottle of glass cleaner on the table beside him, brushing peony petals in the process. The boy looks at it, then me, and smiles gratefully.
"Thanks,"
I nod. Max goes back to his work, but once again opens his mouth to speak. I feel relieved when he does.
"So, what've you been doing?" He asks. "Not anything of interest," I reply. "What about you?"

"Well... I did sneak into the garden.." So, he trusts me again?
I smile, catching his eyes. He looks hopeful, and slightly worried. I shake my head. "I won't tell him." I assure the boy. He smiles wide, and closes the space between us.
It did surprise me, his sign of affection, but I didn't reject it.

He keeps his arms around my back, warm forehead resting against my chilled shoulder. I still have my arms around his waist. I feel again. I feel sad, and something else. I feel affection towards the human.

I wonder, how old am I? I've never cared for anyone this way, in all of my life. Not even a robot.

I've been with Max for many years. Since he was ten. It's been five years, roughly.

"I think I've got a name for you.." he murmurs, peering up at me with his pretty brown eyes. I manage a smile, nodding. Oh, what is this feeling? My chest aches.
"What about Cecil?"

How do I say that myself? Hm..

"How do you pronounce that?...Sea-sill?" I ask. Max grins, shaking his head. "That's one way of pronouncing it, but I like this way more: Sess-ill. It sounds softer."
I nod slowly, a smile forming on my lips. "Cecil..?"
Max nods, smiling. "It means blind," he starts. "I think it matches, because you feel a lot more than any machine I've ever met. You don't use your sight to judge."
He places a hand on my chest, and smiles up at me. "You use your heart, Cecil."

This is uncomfortable.
I open my mouth to speak. Slowly. "Max...I don't-"
The boy's expression doesn't change. He doesn't seem upset or hurt in the slightest. He has a bruise on his cheek, and a cut on his lip, and yet, he's still smiling.

"I've known you for over five years," the blonde chuckles. "I'm wise enough to know you care."
He won't let me go. I don't remove myself from the situation, nor do I remove my arms from his waist.
"I do care.." I start. "That's why I'm sorry."
"I accept your apology." Max replies, smiling. There is a silence.
The grey of his clothes makes his pale skin seem so soft. His brown eyes are bright, beautiful.
Max has been called "plain" and "ordinary" by the repulsive guests Mr. Hanning has had here. This boy is nothing of the sort.

He is a lovely human.

But even now, I don't know of what lies under this sweet form.

"You didn't have a name for such a long time.." Max sighs. "I'm glad I finally found one. Huh.. I just never realized you lacked a name.."
He laughs, and my eyes widen. "Five years, and I never thought of what to call you..." the boy sighs. "So weird.."
He shrugs, tightening the embrace. His brown eyes are level with my artificial, blue ones.

I don't know how to react. Unfortunately, or luckily, I don't have to. The shorter boy pulls away.

Max smiles against me, keeping his eyes on mine. They stare into me, creating an eerie bond between us. I do find it enjoyable, the bond. However, it is also very uncomfortable. It feels as if I'm an ant, and he's got me under a magnifying glass.

Frying me alive with the morning sun

"Cecil, here"
He passes me the rag, and I nod.  "Thank you, Max." I say, my voice remaining monotone. Eerie.
Even so, he smiles warmly, and places a hand on my left shoulder. His skin is cold, but he lacks the callouses that the other servants have. Well, a few of them. Not all the servants do difficult work.

Hanning's personal staff aren't even allowed to go into the garden.

Sick, sick man.