Detroit Become Human: Every Breath You Take (Connor x Reader)

Chapter 7: Forbidden Attraction

*I own nothing

The thunderstorm washed away all traces of Kara and her charge; swept them down into the grates of the open sewers, gurgling and roiling like the unbidden thoughts assaulting my core.

I leaned over the edge of the bed and placed my face into my palms. The backs of my eyelids continued to replay one particular subject on repeat, a perpetual unending loop of what I knew to be true but didn't want to acknowledge. A snare that threatened to unravel me only after night's embrace lifted like a veil from the city, and the following morning settled on me in the dawn's brushstrokes.

Connor's warmth sliding down my shoulders as he asked over and over, Are you alright?

No, I wasn't alright.

He'd reprimanded my empathy for his kind, suggested I resign, and then covered up my deceitful ploy to warn wanted suspects of the police's approach. He should've ratted me out, but instead he'd kept my secret. Then he acted as if he cared about me, taking the time to write messages in the bridge to my heart.

To make matters worse, Hank messaged me this morning: Don't come in today. Leave the explaining to me.

I ordered a pizza for breakfast and lounged on the couch, wasting time in front of the TV. I was a mess. I hadn't showered, I hadn't eaten a single bite since yesterday, and I already missed Emma. It was best I refrained from contacting her; Mom had to cool off first.

There was a polite knock on my door from the pizza delivery man just a few minutes later - not many people ordering pizza for breakfast, apparently. Collecting my meal, I settled back down into the couch when my phone dinged with another message.

It was Hank again. How are you? Did you sleep well?

My brow knitted together at his unusually tactful words. Are you drunk? Anyways, what about Eden?

I waited and waited. The show I'd been watching ended, and the news replaced it. To my chagrin, Hank never replied. After devouring another slice, I sent, I asked you a question.

My phone immediately answered back, as if chastising me, but it wasn't Hank.

Chris? He rarely messaged me about anything, preferring only to keep his wife as his only contact. Hey, no-show. What's up?

I rubbed my eyes before typing out a reply. Hank didn't want me on the next case. And I got kicked out of my house. Hey, Hank won't answer me can you flip him off for me?

Three dots appeared and then, Your mom's a piece of work. Hope Emma's good. You okay? Need anything?

I'm okay. Thanks.

Chris took longer with his next message. Hank gave his phone to your Hardware. Says he never texted you.

That was low of Hank, lying out of his ass. Not that I wasn't used to it, especially where feelings were concerned. Excuse me, who?

Chris texted back. Mr. Turns-My-Software-Into-Hardware?

Mortification froze me in place, and a blazing fire rushed over my entire body.

Everyone knows. You aren't exactly subtle about these things. Chris continued.

I sucked in a shaky breath and typed. I just now let myself realize that....

With Chris's next message, I could almost hear his laughter. Wondered when you'd face reality. Sucks to be you, you're awful with feelings.

I sent him the most logical counter I could think of, gloating in my argument against Chris's inevitable vow to help me win over my fancied eye-candy. Last time, he'd been my wingman for the barista Sam, from Chris's preferred cafe; it'd worked, but the guy had turned out to be, as Emma so eloquently put it, a dick. He'll return to Cyberlife when the case is done. It'll fade. No point. Tell Hank to answer me!