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

Chapter 15: Only Fools Fall For You

Thank you for the wait, things got super busy. Don't worry, the entire story has been written :) I'm getting each chapter beta'd by my beta reader. She truly deserves all the stars, I can't thank her enough. Next chapter is that long-awaited kiss scene. As always, I own nothing and any allusion to religion is never used to force that on anyone - I'm simply correlating the events of the game to theories I've had that make so much sense when allusions are drawn from philosophy and religion. Thank you as always for reading!

We'd just disembarked at the Ferndale station platform when I caught sight of Connor's hand and exclaimed, "What the hell is that?" In his palm, a photo of the graffitied wall in front of us blinked up at me.

"It's a map to Jericho that I obtained from the Stratford deviant."

I placed my hand in his, sealing the secret base between us; it wouldn't be good for passersby to notice he was projecting images, completely uprooting his human disguise.

We took the elevators down to the main street, and I pulled up my hood in the wake of light, wintry gales. The cold stung my throat with every breath I took. Overhead, the sky was like a slate slab of concrete, darkening to charcoal as the evening progressed. It expunged squalling snow drifts from its cracks, plastering Detroit in a dusting of frosty cold. The forecasters had predicted these drifts would grow into more violent, snarling blizzards by the end of the week.

Connor discreetly peered at his free hand like he would at a cell phone he was holding, as though we were lost, and we set off for the next marker.

I hated the way I liked his hand in mine, because a good outcome to the revolution was less likely than Hank giving up his booze. It was all the more reason to put aside my nerves and enjoy this turn of events while remaining diligent to the mission, I told myself. Kinda hard to do, considering how every time Connor glanced back at me, that endearingly, painful-looking attempt at a smile of his would grace his face.

"What do you think of this for our cover story?" I asked, snagging his attention. "We met while on the run from our...owners," I cleared my throat, "to be together - we ran into another deviant who told us about Jericho. Your name is Bryan, and I'm Amelia. Sound good?"

"Won't it be odd if we have aliases for everyone else, and then Markus calls us by our real names?" he inquired.

"Would you rather get shot on sight? You heard what the Stratford deviant said, you have a title. They know who you are." Not to mention the night I'd been attacked by a deviant who'd run away. There was a chance he might be where we were heading.

Connor acquiesced, "I didn't take that into account. Alright, it sounds good. Also, I've come up with several introductory phrases, for when they ask me questions."

"Like what?"

"As they'll be nervous, we must proceed with the utmost caution. For starters, I'll greet them with a friendly, calming opening, such as: 'Good evening, fellow deviants. My name is Bryan-'"

I interrupted him with, "That's not at all convincing, no offense."

"You're certain we can gain entry without proving our story? Kissing would be a very deviant thing to do, especially regarding the story we're using."

"Positive," I answered immediately, staring straight ahead. If he thought of it as just his mission, there was not a chance I'd take him up on his offer - but if he expressed any desire to, I'd gladly participate. Taking advantage of him in any form would be an evil I couldn't redeem myself from.

We rounded a street corner as the snowstorm above petered out into a light flurry. To our right was a small, fenced-in parking lot, in front of a large warehouse. Most of the vehicles were beaten down, crushed, empty. Metal carcasses. The buildings likewise were hunched low to the ground as if they'd been sucked into the concrete, and many of their brick walls were adorned in graffiti.