Fomalhaut [COMPLETED]

02|| At Your Service

I wake up to a text message from CYP telling me that my project is ready. It's been two weeks since I went to their headquarters and designed my so-called project. I take my time in doing my morning routine and dressing up before I walk off to my destination.

Why are they working on a Sunday morning anyway? It's supposed to be a day off right?

I am met by the same woman from 2 weeks ago as soon as I set foot inside the company. Honestly speaking, that makes me feel less stressed as it's a person I have met before— although she is still a stranger.

"Welcome back, Valentina!" she greets as though we've been friends for 10 years.

"Hello," I say back respectfully.

"While you weren't very picky with the appearance of your project, I am certain you will be very pleased with the outcome. Don't tell anyone but he personally is my favorite in the looks department," she whispers the last part. I disregard her as I approach the project assigned 'Project Valentina'. He is lying on one of the beds with his eyes closed.

I look back at the receptionist who has yet to give me her name and give her a questioning look.

"Project Valentina? Really? Couldn't you have come up with something more original?" I comment to which she rolls her eyes.

"It's to make it clear that it's yours."

"Does he not have a name?" I ask.

She gulps.

"Why? Did you want to name him?"

I shake my head to debunk her statement.

"No. I'm not even sure what this is. Is it a real human or a robot or.. what is it?"

She laughs.

"It's a human. I can promise you that much, at least."

How do you program a human? How does this entire thing work?

There are so many questions regarding this on the tip of my tongue but I know that she will disregard them like she did 2 weeks ago so I decide against asking them.

"You can get up now," she says and as soon as these words come out of her mouth, the sleeping-or at least that's what I initially thought he was doing- person sits up and stands. He is wearing a plain white t-shirt with jeans.

"Hi," I wave awkwardly. I am starting to regret doing this.

"He comes with his own sets of clothes, by the way," she explains and I nod. I am starting to not like the sound of this. It's like he's a doll that you control and dress up, to make it worse, a human sized one but she also just told me that he's a human which makes me feel uneasy.

I look back at him and start taking in what he looks like. Just like she said, he is very attractive. His sand-brown hair falls messily over his emerald eyes which gleam with innocence. He has a chiseled jaw and perfect European nose along with full lips. His tan skin matches perfectly with the rest of him and it surprises me how they picked him for me when they know I'm not the pickiest about looks. I don't know if it's only me but if I had a business like this and had to give away someone, I'd save the less attractive ones for the person who doesn't care about looks the most. After all, wouldn't it be terrible if someone shows up and asks for him specifically? They'd get more from them than me since I ended up getting him as a prize.

"He has a six pack too, by the way," the receptionist whispers loudly to me as she winks at me. I mentally roll my eyes before I extend my hand out.

"I am Valentina Emerson," I introduce myself. The man laughs.

"I know that," he says before he takes my hand in his. I scratch my head awkwardly after he lets go of my hand. Does he not have a name or something?

"Since you didn't ask to name him yourself the last time you were here, we did the honors of giving him a name. We made all his legal documents and we will give them to you shortly."

"Right," I murmur under my breath.

She leaves to retract the documents and silence engulfs the two of us.

"So, how are you?" I say in an attempt to start a conversation. If I'm going to live with this person for 'the rest of my life', I sure as hell should make him feel comfortable enough in my presence no matter how hard it is for me to start a conversation.

He moves his eyes from whatever they were staring at and redirects them towards me.

"At least attempt to try to start a conversation that's not awkward," he jokes. I flush in embarrassment.

"I'm not very used to this if you can't tell."

He laughs.

"It's pretty obvious. But don't worry, it's fine by me. We both have a lot to learn from each other," he smiles with the perfect set of pearly white teeth.

I can't help but smile back in response. At least he's not making it worse for me. Then again, I did design him to be nice.

"So, why were you picked for this?"

"How do you know I was picked?" I ask in surprise.

"They pick ten winners every year, don't they?"

"Yeah. They pick ten lonely people, I guess. I never applied for this so I'm not sure why they decided to go after me out of all people," I mumble.

"It means someone submitted your name and they looked after you for months before they ensured it."

I jolt my head in surprise.

"They've been watching me for months?"

He nods.

"That's not creepy at all," I mutter sarcastically to which he laughs.

"Well, whoever submitted your name was sure looking out for you."

But who could it be? Did Detective Emerson know that he was dying and submit my name for me in case something happened to him? It can't be.

Knowing his job, there was always a chance that someone was going to go after him. He was consistently putting himself in dangerous situations but I do know that he is not one to trust such organizations. He usually has to do a thorough research before deciding to buy something and I'm pretty sure he's the same when it comes to this. I don't think it's him who submitted my name.

"But I don't-" I am cut off by the nameless receptionist's arrival.

"I'm sorry for making you wait, I was tasked to do some other things before coming back to you but here you go," she babbles as she puts the folder of his legal documents in my arms.

"You want him to go to school with you?" she asks.

"I guess?" I turn my head to give him a questioning look and he shrugs.

"Alright then, I'll be starting with his documents and he can start with you as soon as possible," I nod before she walks off. I look at the documents and pause at the sight of his ID card. That makes it pretty legit. Then again, he is supposed to be a real human. A real and breathing one.

"Alexander Vandenberg," I utter to which he bows.

"At your service."