QUOTE COMPENDIUM ⊳ connor x reader

Ch. VI

Connor's life couldn't exactly be described as peaceful—his sole purpose had been to hunt deviants after all. His entire existence was, quite literally, a spiral of danger and death at every case he investigated.

So, no, not exactly tranquil.

Not like Connor minded, though. He was an Android, which meant that he never got tired. He had no need for rest, or peace.

But in rare moments like these, when he could enjoy the pitter-patter of light rain drumming against the car windows, and listen to (y/n)'s fragile breathing, Connor had to admit that peacefulness still had its appeal.

Yes, even in spite of his tireless nature.

He slowed down the car, as if he hoped to slow down time as well. He wanted for this to last forever, or for as long as it possibly could. Reluctantly, Connor's gaze found its way back onto (y/n)'s face.

Hank had always been grumpy, and that included his subconscious too — the old man would frown even in his sleep. (Y/n), on the other hand, was so soft, so vulnerable, and Connor almost felt like he was intruding on something extremely personal just by occasionally looking at her sleeping figure.

The sun was rising, painting her face with the most lovely patters he had ever seen, a harmony of dark orange and the ebony shadows. It was mesmerizing in the most wonderful way. Connor had to refrain himself from reaching out to brush his fingers through her awry hair. Slowly but surely, the bloody orange was fading into a pastel yellow as time flew by. Connor had lost track of almost all of his surroundings, only focusing on the road from time to time. He had no idea where they were going, but then again, did it really matter?

(Y/n)'s chest rose and fell along with her breaths, and she occasionally made small sounds. Connor could only guess it was because of something she was dreaming. Shadows formed on the bridge of her nose as she scrunched it up, crease forming between her brows, lashes trembling. Was she having a nightm-

"Achoo!"

Startled by her sneeze, Connor couldn't help but stare at her for a few seconds.

"Good morning, (y/n)." He answered upon conducting a scan to make sure that she really had woken up. Her heart rate was steadily increasing, and her breaths were deeper and livelier.

"Hm? Where..." Her expression was that of utter confusion at best as she scanned her surroundings with half-lidded eyes. The young woman yawned, her brain having processed the situation she was in. "Oh. Connor, good morning."

He smiled softly at her drowsy, lost expression: her brows still raised cluelessly as she looked at him through hooded lashes.

"How did you sleep?" He asked.

"Good. My neck doesn't hurt at a-" She brought her hands up to her collarbone, then steadily moved them upwards, finally stumbling across the pillow. In slight wonder, she removed it from around the juncture of her neck, giving it a quick look before her eyes found Connor's. " 's this yours?"

"Well, technically, not exactly— I...bought it for you. At the gas station. I figured it could be beneficial for your neck alignment while you rested, and that it could contribute to avoiding potential backaches." Connor explained, not daring to hold her gaze. However he could clearly hear her huff in amusement.

"You're a godsend, Connor. Seriously. Thank you."

He could only nod. Why was he getting nervous...over someone thanking him? Something so utterly mundane.

"For how long did I sleep?" (Y/n) asked as she stored the pillow in her lap, starting to stretch out her legs as much as the car seat allowed her to.

"Well, you fell asleep roughly at 5:10 AM. So, about 5 hours."

"That should be enough for me to function." She smiled. "Bet it's nice to not have to sleep at all, huh?"

"It's mostly beneficial, yes." Connor confirmed.

"Hey, think we could, like...stop by somewhere so I can get food? I mean, I'm in no hurry, but some breakfast sounds nice right now." (Y/n) explained in an almost shy manner. Almost as if she was afraid of being a nuisance, even. Connor couldn't understand why, but refrained from asking, and instead opted for telling her something else.

"I've taken care of that as well. Feel free to check the backseat and find something that suits your tastes." He gestured behind himself, to which the young woman's eyes seemed to light up.

"You. Are. A godsend." She repeated it almost like a mantra, a big, goofy smile spreading across her oh-so-alluring features. Connor almost found himself staring at her dreamily.

"You've mentioned that before." The Android rushed to answer, hoping to cover up the fact that he had been wordless for quite a few moments. It certainly was embarrassing to know that someone he had met a few hours ago already felt this...familiar, this homely, this comforting. Wordlessly watching her unbuckle her seatbelt and bend in an unnatural angle towards the backseat, reaching for the snacks, Connor could only pry his gaze away from her for the nth time and focus back on the road.

"Oh, come on." (Y/n) sighed seconds later, voice slightly strained from her current position.

"Is something the matter?"

"No junk food?" She answered with a question.

'It's not healthy for you', he wanted to say, but couldn't. The words just refused to leave his mouth, as if they had gotten stuck in a forming knot in his throat. Hank had an affinity for making unhealthy choices when it came to his meals too. That seemed to be a trait they both shared—their impulsiveness. Or the love for an uncalculated diet, he supposed.

The risks of poor nutrition include:

•being overweight or obese.
•tooth decay.
•high blood pressure.
•high cholesterol.
•heart disease and stroke.
•type-2 diabetes.

A message in his vision prompted up, as if he didn't already know. He had looked at that damned list for far too many times in the past three years. Connor knew the entire goddamn article by heart and he hated himself for it. Hated Hank for it.

Because it was the old man's fault, and it was his diet's fault, but it was also Connor's fault, because he hadn't insisted enough, hadn't managed to convince him to make healthier choices. The Android had taken bullets for his partner, yet had failed to protect Hank from himself. If Connor hadn't been the one to mourn the man even years after his death, the Android would've almost found the situation laughable. A bad joke, a horrible example of what inefficiency and impulsiveness meant.

But to him, it wasn't laughable. It was painful, always so painful, because it wasn't just Hank's fault. It was his fault as well. Connor should've done something, but he hadn't. And that made his stomach twist in the most unsettling of ways, like something hooked deep inside his wires that tugged at them.

"Hey, look, I was joking. Healthy is fine by me, I didn't mean to be an unthankful prick." (Y/n) interrupted his thoughts, looking sightly worried. Only then Connor noticed her hand set atop his on the steering wheel.

"No, that...I...I'm not..."