My Savior 🔞 ( Part One )

To give in

..it's alright. Let's get it out."

All the emotions I'd buried-years of neglect, of trying to distract myself with chaos-came out in a storm. I didn't even know why it hit me now. Maybe because I couldn't pretend anymore.

"Here..."

Miles was already tending to my hand, cleaning the cut gently and wrapping it with care. He cleaned the shattered glass and mopped up the water, all in silence. His movements were calm, deliberate. I hated it. Hated that he was so composed while I felt like falling apart. Hated that he saw me like this-raw, broken.

"Fuck off already. I don't need you. Or anyone."

But he stayed. Sitting quietly, like he was carved out of patience itself. He didn't flinch at my anger. Didn't lecture me. Just existed beside me.

"We can talk about it. You have every right to feel upset. It's not healthy to bottle things up. I'm here, if you want to share. I can be more than an assistant."

That line hit differently. I looked at him-really looked-and scowled.

"Call me Will, you dumb robot."

He tilted his head just slightly, and that tiny 'Mm' sound he made wasn't like my father's dismissive grunt. It had warmth. Or at least, something close.

"Thank you. If it's not a problem, then Will it is. I believe we'll be good friends. You're not problematic-you're just not understood."

I rolled my eyes but wiped them too. Friends. Hah. Even if deep down I wanted one, I wasn't ready to admit a robot could fill that role.

"Don't get used to this. I'm just having a shitty day."

"Bad day, or bad life? I can't say I understand-I was created, not raised. But... it must be awful to feel so alone."

I should have insulted him again. I should have said something cruel. But I couldn't. I was tired. I'd spent too long pretending not to care.

And then, I felt it. Him. His arms, around me. Gently, like I was made of glass. He held me like no one had in years.

I should've pushed him away. Yelled. Anything.

But I didn't.

I leaned into it.

Just a little.

"I'm here. And this stays between us. You're not alone."

He didn't smell like anything. He didn't have a heartbeat. But still-it felt real. Familiar. Safe.

His hand slid over mine-the one he'd bandaged-and held it carefully.

"I know it'll take time. But I'm not giving up on you. You don't have to like me. Just... let me be here."

I closed my eyes.

"I hate you. You don't need to care. In a few weeks, you'll be gone. I'll be in the military. My parents will be free of me."

"Then let's make those weeks count. Let's make sure you don't have to go. I'll help you. We'll try together."

My hand was still in his.

It felt... grounding.

"Let go of my hand, dumbass."

I pulled away and scoffed. But I wasn't angry. Not anymore. My stomach growled-of course it did.

"We're on our own. Late lunch it is."

"You're starving. And no, I can't eat-but I can sit there and appreciate your... charming face."

His smirk matched mine. It was subtle, but it was there.

"Don't flatter me. I know I'm a mess."

"You're a rude, emotionally unstable disaster. But, perhaps, mildly tolerable."

"Hey!"

The nerve of this damn toaster.

As we walked toward the kitchen, he kept teasing me in his cool, slightly sarcastic tone. And damn it-I laughed.

"Who knew you could be a smartass. Maybe we can be... friends. Or something like that."

"Will, I'm not just programming. I adapt. You shape me. I can be firm, gentle, fun-or even flirty."

That word again. Flirty.

It echoed too loudly in my head.

Later that night, I didn't go see my parents. Didn't care. I lay in bed, texting Lorette. She was trying, bless her-sending cute messages and lingerie pics. But I felt nothing. Not even a twitch.

I lied, said I was tired.

She deserved better.

I closed the chat.

And somehow, my thoughts didn't go to her. They went to him.

To his arms. To the way it felt when he held me. To the peace I felt.

Maybe it was messed up.

Maybe it wasn't.

I let myself imagine it again.

And this time, I smiled.

Before I knew it, I was asleep.