𝙆𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙃𝙚𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙜 - 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥

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From the moment you met Karl, it became apparent that most of his cocky attitude was just for show. When alone, inside the confines of his own factory, he's free to be his true self.

Quiet unless a project fails, where he'll yell frustratedly and curse a lot. Careless, because he's a man who lives life on the edge. Why not give this robot more blades? Why not rouse it and end up with a couple more scars? Why not irk Alcina some more while she's already grumpy as hell?

But one thing that always saddened you was the fact that he hasn't been shown any love. Or kindness. He became so familiar with brutal experiments and blinding pain, that he forgot what human contact felt like.

How it felt to be held by another person. What it's like to be enveloped by their warmth. To be cared for. To be worried over. To be watched over in a loving way and to be patched up when he gets hurt.

You would have treated him like a person as opposed to a lab rat anyway, but with Karl, you take extra care. Making sure he knows he can fall back on you whenever he needs.

Even now it still takes him by surprise that another person cares about him. Sometimes he feels as if it's an illusion; that it's all just in his twisted head.

Until you sweep him off his feet with your gorgeous smile, and he remembers he has an angel in his life now.

Finding him hunched over a workbench, where he spends most of his time, you gently walk your fingers up his back, feeling him tense for a moment.

"Just me," you murmur. He still marvels at how your touch and voice hold the power to relax him instantly.

You drag your fingers along his shoulder blades, peering down at the tools and pieces laid out on the table. You explore the different scars that have marred his skin over the years. Some from his 'bitch of a sister', others from failed experiments.

He sighs heavily, twisting a few things on the part in his hands. He scrapes his hair away from his face, but the grey strands fall back where they were to begin with.

"Come here." You reach up to pull his hair away from his face, tying it into a small bun with the hair tie around your wrist.

"I look ridiculous."

"No you don't." One of your hands slip down his bicep which flexes each time he adjusts the part in his hands. "You look handsome."

"Huh," he lightly scoffs.

"None of that." You gently scold.

He knows you hate it when he talks negatively about himself, and he told you he'd work on it because he'd do just about anything for you.

If you asked him to quit drinking, he would. In fact he partially did. You told him he shouldn't consume as much as he was when you first met him, but you're not opposed to him having the odd drink here and there.

Hell, if you asked him to leave his army behind and run away with you he probably would. He wouldn't admit quite how strongly he feels about you, but he absolutely adores you.

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