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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
I don't know how many minutes had it been since we've argued. Paris had reluctantly made Polakov side with him leaving me trap. Wow, they really do like to make a fool out of me huh ?
Their words were nagging at my head. Bickering back and forth, arguing that I was fragile as a glass and that if Ivan knew I'm chip or something they both would get in trouble.
It's funny ! really it is, since base on the comic alone. Both Paris and Polakov would careless if either one of them would get hurt and yet when it comes to me its as if I suddenly became an importance to them.
Weird and uncomfortable it is, as if they both would deem me as an important object. No, wrong word. human or person, or something !
Agh ! This isn't the time for some conflicting self identity crisis shit !
It feels like I'm back home. Young me arguing with dad, hoping that he'll understand with what I've always wanted but no, he'll do what it takes to have me live a life that could follow through with his legacy.
After all, it was the only thing that I could do to repay the things they've done for me.
A price of perfection or some would say. I stared at Paris telling me nonsense about me being fragile or something like that. Looking at his figure and his mannerism reminded me so much of my dad. I stay still, listening to his words with a solemn look.
Even in this life I'm trap to be someone I'm not.
" Are you done or something... " I spoke. My voice felt so hoarse and tiresome. The look on their faces made it clear that they hadn't expected the slightest bit of me speaking so calmly after all those arguing and the load of crap that happened.
Were they expecting me to have some sort of temper tantrum ? Like I get I argued back, calling them out on their ridiculous reasons and maybe or maybe not had called them... flowery names... but ! It's alright I guess ?
It's okay to call Paris an emo right or calling Polakov a boomer... right ?
...
The moon light behind the curtain felt so foreign yet comforting as I tried to avert my gaze to it rather than looking at them. There was a moment of silence until I took a breath and stared at the two. Paris was a mixture of relief -as usual - yet there was a hint of hesitation in his eyes.
For Polakov, I couldn't comprehend whether or not was it excitement or bitterness behind that mask of his.
My nose scrunch at that, I can't bother to see them after all this. Maybe hiding away in the attic for a few days would suffice it. Yeah, I think it'll do.
The front door made a soft creak, that was when I looked at the archway of the workshop door. Behold our doting creator came baring our parts and service gears.
