The Consequences of our Actions [reader x Gavin Reed]

three

November 6th 2038
PM 3:52:37

The apartment where you lived was only temporary. When Kevin came back from his extended business trip, you would move in to a house with him outside of the city. You both have been saving up for years, and you finally have enough.

You get off the bus and go into your apartment. The clothes on your dark red sofa are messily sprawled out. Darn, thought I folded those last night. You pick up a shirt and sigh at the wrinkles.

Quickly, you put your coat on the hook next to the door and grab the white basket out of the closet. Holding the basket on your hip, you put the clothes in it and walk downstairs to the communal laundry room.

Inside you see three washers on the left and three dryers on the right. You put your basket on the plastic table in the middle and stuff your laundry in the machine on the right. It hums to life after you put four quarters in, and you sit down in front of the machine, your back up against it as it gently shakes you.

The eight minutes pass by quickly, you fold up the laundry and put it in your basket. As you're leaving, someone bumps into your shoulder.

"Oh sorry, didn't see you there-" you're dumbfounded when you realize the person was an android.

"I'm sorry, miss. Please excuse me." The male android walks around you and into the laundry room while you stand there, confused as to why it apologized.

"No I- It's okay, I bumped into you." You finally say, turning to look at the android beginning their owner's load of laundry. It- he- smiles at you and nods. You nod too and go back to your apartment.

You begin to put the folded clothes into your bedroom drawer.

That android was probably programmed to be nice, but he seemed so sincere...

It always made your head spin when you thought about androids and how they came so far. If they really have AI like CyberLife advertises, then they would be able to think on their own like humans do. Does that mean they are alive? Not necessarily because they don't have real cells and organs but maybe the ability to think and have free will is the idea of life itself.

After mulling over the topic again you start to feel your lungs tighten and your head throb with dull pain. You rub your temples with your middle finger and thumb to try and appease the tension but it's no use.

You go to the bathroom across the short hall from your bedroom and stand in front of the mirror. Parts of your reflection are blocked by months old affirmations on sticky notes, you give a lighthearted smile and open the cabinet revealing different medicine bottles. Many are empty and need to be refilled but you always say you'll do it later. You never do.

The bottle you grab for your headache has only a few pills left, you actually need to refill this one soon. You fumble with the child-lock cap for a moment and pour three into your hand and dry swallow them. Putting the bottle back and closing the cabinet, you head to your kitchen to make a sandwich to chase down the pills so you don't get a sickness in addition to the headache.

The cool air from the fridge surrounds you as you open it, calming you down like a comforting presence. The ingredients you grab from the fridge are just plain mayonnaise, lunch meat, and mustard. You slather and layer them on cheap white bread and cut it diagonally. You bring your artfully crafted masterpiece of a sandwich to your red couch and turn on the small TV to play some random news channel talking about what you believe to be the murder of a man by his android.

You feel yourself grow tired and fall into a light restless sleep, tossing and turning all night on the couch with no motivation to move to your empty bed, void of the one person you needed right now. Kevin when are you coming home.