Divine Singularity || Reader x Murder Drones

II

"Pleased purr. The brushing feels delightful."

Cyn's voice rumbled with contentment, throat vibrating as she sat cross-legged on the sheets of Tessa's bed. Tessa giggled, amused. Her fingers expertly combed through strands of Cyn's synthetic hair, which shined under the warm glow of her night lamp. The brush, though designed for real hair, glided through the artificial fibers with ease. Tessa was dressed in her usual bedtime attire, a silky nightgown patterned with faded stars. Cyn, naturally, wore something stolen from Tessa's closet—a lavender pajama set far too cute for someone capable of planetary destruction. But she made it work. Or perhaps that was the point.

Cyn hummed quietly, a soft and oddly cheerful tune that didn't seem to belong to any real song. Her legs swung lightly over the edge of the bed, toes not quite touching the floor. That was, until she felt Tessa's hand stop mid-stroke. The brush paused somewhere near her shoulder blades.

The hum cut off.

Cyn's smile flattened.

She blinked once, optics sharpening as she tilted her head slightly, listening. Then, slowly, she glanced back—just enough to see the soft silhouette of the girl behind her, gaze fixed on the window and the night beyond.

The moonlight bathed Tessa's features in a ghostly silver wash, though Cyn could not really see it past her filter. Her eyes, always so full of curiosity, now brimmed with something else—worry, maybe. Longing. Fear.

"Pout. Why have you stopped? Resume brushing, please," Cyn said, shuffling backwards into Tessa a little.

Tessa startled, blinking back to the present. "Oh, sorry, Cyn," she muttered with a small smile, and resumed the brushing. Her strokes were slower now, absentminded. "Just... thinking."

Cyn didn't need to ask what—or who—she was thinking about.

She turned fully this time, folding her arms over Tessa's knees and resting her chin there like a cat claiming a spot.

"Leaning. Do not worry, Tessa. My dear is simply... preoccupied. Very soon, they will return."

Tessa blinked down at her. "My dear?" she repeated, eyes widening with dawning curiosity. "Wait. You mean... you two?" Her cheeks colored. "Oh my gosh—Cyn! I didn't know the two of you were—like, that!"

Cyn grinned, a display of teeth that was a little too wide, but undeniably pleased. "Smug expression. Hopefully, we may grow even closer."

Tessa's hands fluttered to her cheeks. "Aww! That's actually kinda sweet. I was worried, you know? When you first met, the vibes were... well, awkward. A lot of staring. A lot of muttering. Definitely tension." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Not exactly friendship material."

"Deadpan. Understatement detected." Cyn chuckled. "Yes, our introduction was less than ideal. There were... complications."

"Still," Tessa murmured, idly brushing again, "I'm glad. You both seem like you understand each other better now. Even if you're both weird about it."

Cyn's eyes glinted as she leaned back into her previous position, gaze fixed on the middle distance—some place far beyond the bedroom. "Thoughtful tone. Yes. The walls are coming down." She didn't elaborate.

Tessa, satisfied enough, said nothing more, the brushing continuing like rain on a quiet rooftop.

"When I tried lining up both of your duties," Tessa said, leaning over Cyn's shoulder, "I was really hoping the two of you would start to get along. So, tell me—did I at least help push you both a little closer?"

Cyn didn't answer right away.

She tilted her head just slightly, fingers poised mid-gesture. Her gaze unfocused, slipping sideways into memory.