Will You Trust Me? // Connor x Reader

1100 (12)

Soul

That night had been hard for you, Hank, and Connor. You weren't allowed to know how the investigation had went until Connor got back, and even then, he didn't speak much. Something had gotten into him-- fiddled with his wires. All you could think about was the look he donned as he watched that speech in complete and utter silence, his eyes never moving from the screen; it was obvious that what that android had said, however, had moved something deep inside of him.

Connor had arrived at your doorstep in complete disarray. He had multiple bullet wounds in his shoulders, thirium staining the white, collared undershirt he wore underneath his android-signifying overcoat. The longer you had looked at him, the more spatters of blue blood you saw covering his clothes. You asked him about what had happened, but it seemed as if he were too traumatized to speak about it then. The only thing he had muttered to you was something about a "rogue, deviant android." Other than that, he had said little to nothing to you for the rest of the night.

You woke up on the couch, various bandages, boxes of gauze, and jars of android repair items littering the coffee table in front of you. You had almost forgot-- you spent the entire night trying to remove the bullets from Connor's shoulders and fixing his wounds that you ended up passing out on the couch instead of in your bed.

You rubbed your tiredly sore eyes as you sat up, catching a glance of said android sitting upright in one of your dining room chairs. He looked so peaceful just sitting there. His eyes were closed in tranquil contentedness, and his tie hung loosely around the base of his neck.

His white undershirt was still soiled with thirium, but it also hung loosely around his form. The first couple of buttons had been undone and the sleeves were rolled up. It had also been untucked from his grey dress pants, which his belt had been removed from as well.

His long arms dangled off the edge of the arm rests, his fingers twitching ever so slightly as he slept. The edge of the chair supported his heavy head as it drooped to the side, and you smiled in relief knowing that he wouldn't feel discomfort after he woke.

The last thing that had been discarded were his socks and shoes; those had been moved to the side near the dining table, his socks tucked neatly inside the clean, black loafers.

God, you've never seen him look more human than in this very moment in time. There was no stress, no case to worry about, no wounds to clean up: it was just him. Him sleeping peacefully in your tiny dining room. Him being allowed to just live for once.

You almost felt bad for taking a step away from the couch towards him because it caused the wood panels in your floor to creak. Just your luck.

Connor's gorgeous eyes fluttered open almost immediately at the sound of the wood squeaking, his gaze traveling around the room until it met your face. He brought his arms in toward his figure and tried to sit more upright even though he was already as posture-perfect as possible.

"Good morning, Connor," You said gingerly, a soft smile placing itself upon your lips.

You walked towards the disoriented android and helped him gather himself, placing a tender hand on the arm of his chair.

"Good morning, (Y/n)," He replied, turning in his seat to face you. By the way he looked at you, you could tell that he was still being affected by the events of last night. He was being unusually quiet. No questions, no daily reports, nothing. He just looked at you; his eyes burned a pit in your soul as he watched you.

"I-" He started, his eyes leaving your face and fixing themselves on the wood of the dining table that sat in front of him. You waited for him to continue, but nothing came.