Cover art by me, Biscuit19131
This book has oneshots for anyone and everyone. I am so sorry, this was made when I was 11-12, I'm suffering as much as you are.
P.S. This whole thing is PG-13, there is swearing and some mentions of violence, but tha...
(Requested by cutekawiavivy. Art is by Prince of Mints, or Zachary Jack.)
(Y/N)'s POV
Circuits shot messages through my metallic body. Lights glittered within my artificial body. My glassy eyes watch my creator pace the room. His red hoodie was very distinguishable amongst all the gray in the room. The only gray among his lively and dangerous appearance was his silvery eyes. I was created for the very purpose of gathering information for him.
"(Y/N), I need to run one last test," he mutters professionally. I watch him stiffly as he turns to me. His eyes turned cold. Every muscle in his face was relaxed. He was not angry, just unsettled. He showed me an image of a man with brown hair, a blue hoodie, and black eyes. Deep and mysterious eyes that resembled mine, only they were organic.
"What do you think of this man?" Tord growls. I look over the man carefully. Every detail is saved into my data. He looked quite similar to the doll Tord made. He had it pinned to a dart board by the door by its hands and feet. Many darts impaled its head and chest.
"He is Thomas Thompson, enemy of Tord Larsin. It is my responsibility to avoid him," I answer flatly. No emotion was felt when I saw his picture.
"Then be off with you," Tord grunts. I step off of my pedestal and walk to the whole in the wall. His room was quite different from the lab. It was more colorful. It had reds and soft yellows. The door that led to the house was to the side. I discreetly glance at Tord, and he nods.
Tom's POV
I open my door and yawn. Depression sleep was a clingy mistress. I scan the hall and see nothing unusual, except for Tord's door was open. I walk down to it and find nothing. Tord wasn't inside. I descend the staircase and see Edd talking to a beautiful woman. She looked emotionless.
Edd turns and smiles. "Ah, Tom! This is (Y/N). She's a robot that Tord built," he explains nonchalantly. That explains the soulless eyes. I walk over and wave. I smile slightly to show friendliness, despite my desire to drink.
(Y/N) turns to me, and her demeanour changes. Her eyes had life and emotion. Her smile was genuine as she waves back. I smile and chuckle softly. She was definitely something to behold. A robot with emotion. I didn't know that a man with no emotion could give emotion to something so emotionless.
That's when I go to get some Smirnoff so I'll stop saying emotion.
(Y/N)'s POV
Thomas Thompson just made me feel emotion. It was confusing. His eyes were more bright and gentle than in the photo. His smile was kind and polite. His face was much more handsome than Tord's image described him as. Oh motherboard, I love Tom.
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I excuse myself from me and Edd's conversation as I walk into the kitchen. I see Tom searching through the fridge. He smiles like a child as he pulls out a bottle of Smirnoff. I look it over and frown. Didn't he know of the dangers of alcohol.
"Every day, six people die from alcohol poisoning. Isn't it better if you have some water or juice?" I whimper. I hated the idea of Tom dying from alcohol. Tom looks over and tilts his head. He comprehends my concern. He smiles and walks over to my shorter stature. He pets my head and chuckles.
"I'll be fine, (Y/N)," he assures. He opens the Smirnoff and sips from it. He immediately grins in joy as he looks down at the bottle. He looked like a young boy with a toy truck. Not a fully grown man with vodka. This made me more worried.
"Why do you drink alcohol?" I ask. Tom looks up, confused. He looks me over and sighs. He walks up to me and I finally notice his dark circles. His hair was messy, yet still fluffy and soft.
"My father died when I was young, so I got depression. He was my hero. When he died, I drank so I didn't feel the pain. I used to look forward to getting drunk every day. So, that's why I drink. It isn't healthy, I know. But I'd rather die and see my father again, than live and be sober enough to cry over his grave," he sighs.
His story made me frown again. I hugged him, taking him by surprise. He smiles and hugs back. He sets the Smirnoff on the table behind me. I feel him kiss my cheek. I was surprised I didn't overheat.
"You know, I think I'm going to like having you around," he grins. He walks away and I hear him mutter.
"Who knew; Thomas Thompson, in love with a robot,"
