Withered Roots

Succulent

You woke early, sunbeams falling pleasantly on your sheets as you stretched, joints popping in relief. You looked over at the side of the bed Ralph had been using, only to find that the android was no longer present. This was a curious and uncommon occurrence, so you got up quickly and opened the bedroom door to inspect the rest of your apartment. As you did so, your nostrils were met with the intense smell of burnt food, and you rushed to the kitchen to see your new companion standing over the stove, puffs of smoke rising from a blackened piece of what was formerly ham in front of him. He turned with a childish smile to greet you.

"Good morning, (y/n)!" he said cheerfully. "Ralph is cooking for you because he wishes to thank you for all your kindness! He thinks it is almost done."

He flipped the charcoal-looking object one last time before placing it on a plate from the cabinet. With both hands, he sat it down on the bar counter in front of you, and you grinned appreciatively despite his obvious mistake. The meat was completely inedible, you knew, but you tried to think of a way to tell him this without hurting his very vulnerable feelings. He was touchy on certain subjects, and his anger was not easily subdued once provoked. You opened your mouth cautiously after a moment, still smiling and making eye contact with him.

"Thank you very much Ralph." The words left your lips sincerely. You were aware he had tried very hard to do you this small but sweet favor. "You were programmed for gardening, right? Tending to the plants around Detroit?"

"Yes, why do you ask?" his head tilted inquisitively.

"Well, I can see that you tried very hard to learn something new for me, and that's wonderful. But Ralph, um... there's a little bit of a difference between cooked meat and burnt meat."

While he didn't lash out, your friend looked rather hurt by your comment, and his light spun in a slow, steady yellow as his bottom lip dropped. His hands clasped together, and he turned away from you a bit, mumbling to himself. You stood up quickly from the counter and rounded it to meet him. While he tried to pull away momentarily, you placed a warm hand on his shoulder and lowered yourself to meet his gaze.

"I know that stuff like this isn't in your programming, but you were trying your best. It was really nice of you, too. If you want to, we can cook breakfast together. I can show you how."

Ralph wanted to keep pouting, but the unwavering benevolence and thoughtfulness you had continued to show him throughout these last few weeks reassured him to a point where he always failed to stay angry for very long, if at all. When he did go into a rage, which was much less frequently than he used to in his solitude, you always took the time to help him balance his senses and let him vent, no matter how ridiculous the tantrum. Even when Ralph damaged or broke things in his fits, you would simply wait it out calmly, keeping your distance until his light cooled down, then explain to him why his behavior was wrong. Your serene nature kept him grounded even at the worst times, when small triggers would accidentally regrow the seeds of anxiety in his mechanical heart, and he was more than grateful to you for accepting him along with all his flaws and trifles. He felt a great loyalty toward you because of it, and some might even say it was affection that filled the android's artificial heart.

The spark of motivation in your eyes finally appealed to him, and he nodded in agreement as you grabbed some more ham out of the fridge, along with a carton of eggs. You carefully selected and explained which pans to use, then grabbed some salt and pepper for basic seasoning. You turned on the stove and told him the correct temperatures for each item, and stood behind him to guide his arm into whisking the eggs. As the ham sizzled and darkened to the perfect consistency in the heat, Ralph took careful notes of what signs to look for, what temperature the meat needed to be, and the way the eggs solidified to the right texture. This new knowledge filled him with desire to learn more from you, to make you proud and continue bonding with you. Perhaps most importantly, he liked how close these new activities brought you to him, the way you pressed against his side to encourage and observe him, the softness of your hand overlapping his when he became confused on how to proceed. He loved how you stayed near him, breaking his space just enough to steer him, giving him the sense of dignity he never knew he could have.

In just a few short minutes, the two of you prepared a lovely breakfast and sat down together at the counter, discarding the black lump that began your whole ordeal in favor of the more savory option. Though Ralph did not eat, he watched in delight as you consumed your meal happily. When you finished, you patted him on the back and gestured to the empty plate before you.

"You did a really great job, Ralph," you beamed at him.

You saw the slightest blue blush rise in his face at your compliment as he lowered his eyes to the floor with a flattered grin. He was still getting used to the concept of praise.

"Ralph couldn't have done it without you," he humbly murmured, twirling his thumbs sheepishly.

"But you did all the big stuff. I just supervised," you responded, picking up your plate and taking it to the sink. "I'll do the dishes."

As you began to scrub your plate, you could feel Ralph's shadow as he crept hesitantly up behind you, his tall frame pressing into your back slightly. You spun around suddenly to face him.

"Um... (y/n)..." his voice quieted.

"Yeah?"

Before you knew what was happening, Ralph's lanky arms pulled you into a tight hug, his lithe body pressing against you sweetly as he held you in place. You smiled into his chest and quickly returned the favor, locking your arms around his waist affectionately and relaxing in his embrace. The moment ended as quickly as it had come, and Ralph pulled back with a heavy blush, ashamed at his impulsiveness.

"Ralph is sorry. H-he is just happy that his friend is so wonderful."

Your face grew bright as he spoke, but you found yourself staring at the floor in an awkward stupor, silently wishing that he had held onto you a moment longer. You hadn't been touched by anyone in a long time, and the connection had felt good, and refreshingly real.

"No, no. It's okay! I love hugs! They're nice." Your feet shuffled as you finished your sentence.

He shifted a bit at this, and made a small noise under his breath which you read as a good sign. Despite how much you had enjoyed yourself, an uncomfortable and unfamiliar sensation was starting to rise inside of you as your face and neck grew hot. You slid politely past him and walked off toward the bathroom to get a hold of yourself, flipping on the fan before entering.

"I'm gonna get a shower!" you called down the hall before shutting the door. With your thoughts sealed away peacefully, you let your body slide lazily onto the linoleum as you ran your hands down your face to try to wipe off the blush climbing steadily to your cheeks.