Survivor - Connor x OC

Dress

Taylor Swift - Dress

Connor knocked briskly on the door of Taylor's hotel room and waited. The hallway was quiet. He had passed no one on his way up aside from the receptionist android at the desk. The current time was 0803, early by most standards, but he had waited as long as he could manage before heading over.

The seconds continued to tick by. He listened but couldn't make out any sounds on the other side of the door. Could she have left the building already? He didn't think it likely that she would not have waited for him. A quick scan told him that the pipes were not active; she wasn't in the shower.

He knocked again, harder, and shifted on his feet. The stillness in the hallway suddenly felt ominous. He allowed another minute to pass while he suddenly gained an appreciation for why Taylor always moved her hands when she was anxious.

Connor raised a hand against the lock on the door. Hesitated. Then his human skin peeled away to reveal his white android hand beneath, which he pressed into the lock. It took a matter of seconds to hack, and the door clicked open.

Maybe he was being paranoid, but he had to be certain. Hadn't he promised to keep her safe? Alex must have left mere hours ago, he can't have failed already. He stepped into the room. The door swung shut behind him.

The television was on, he noted first, playing the news on low just as it had been the day before. Pillows dotted the bed, covers lying twisted and askew. The bathroom door stood slightly ajar, but no one was moving inside.

As he stepped further in, he noticed her coat lying across the vanity chair. His brow furrowed softly. The current outside temperature warranted the outerwear. He glanced around, scanning, looking for anything out of place. A sign of struggle.

His feet carried him toward the bathroom. He pushed the door inward until it bounced lightly against the wall. Empty. No water collected in the shower drain. None in the sink either. Her clothes from the previous day were in a small heap on the floor. Wherever she had gone, she hadn't stopped to get ready.

Stepping back into the room, he walked slowly toward the door again, scanning more closely for some clue. A fragment of DNA that wasn't hers. Something that didn't belong. His LED was flickering a deep red as he searched.

The knob rattled. He had made it to just a few feet away from the door, and his head shot up instantly at the sound. The door swung inward and Taylor appeared. She was wearing a matching set of athletic wear, kicking off her running shoes as she stepped inside.

When she finally looked up and saw him standing there, she screamed. He startled as she stumbled backwards into the door, her chest heaving. She stared at him and he could see her processing, the change in her expression as she realized it was him.

"Jesus Christ, Connor!" Pushing off the door, she stalked closer to him, glaring. "How the hell did you get in here? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

Running, it dawned on him. Taylor liked to run in the morning. Her cheeks were rosy with exertion. The blonde hair she had pulled into a ponytail had started to escape its bonds, and locks were sticking to her skin with sweat. He could trace beads of perspiration slipping down her face, her neck, the hollow of her throat. He swallowed.

"I apologize," he said, glancing away. "When you didn't answer the door, I became concerned. I hacked the lock on the door."

She sighed in exasperation and moved to step around him. A bottle of water stood sentinel on the nightstand, and she headed for that first. She chugged it as she went for her suitcase to dig for clean clothes.