Ch. XXIII

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"I mean, it's not Gucci, but it should do." (Y/n) cackled to herself, then looked at Connor over her shoulder. "Whatddya think?"

"It seems to be a decent shop. I've looked up reviews, and it appears the price-quality ratio has been determined as satisfactory by most clients." He answered, blinking away the numbers flickering on his Horomas.

"Well then."

A few minutes later, they were inside the small shop, wandering around between the aisles.

"First things first, black coat. We're returning this one to Zlat." She pointed at Connor as she talked, hands behind her back. "A shirt, pants, a hoodie...and shoes, right, of course. Um..." She stopped in her tracks and looked at him with an amused smile. "Do Androids even need underwear?"

"I believe not." Connor answered nonchalantly. "The only use I have for clothes is to fit societal norms. Technically speaking I-"

"Save me the details, Con. All that matters is that it saves me a few bucks." (Y/n) laughed and stopped by the shirt section. "Anything specific in mind?"

"Not exactly."

"Well then." She tapped her chin, and looked at him, took a few steps away as if to look at the bigger picture, then concluded. "I bet you look great in black. Or mustard, maybe? Ooooh, how about brown, to bring out your eyes?"

"You seem to be enjoying this." Connor smiled lopsidedly.

"Why wouldn't I? It's like playing dress up with my friends back in the day." (Y/n) explained as she browsed through the array of shirts, then spoke up. "What size are you?"

"I'm exactly 6 foot tall."

"Okay, that'd make you a...XL? I think?" (Y/n) mumbled, more to herself than to anyone in particular, then selected two shirts. One chocolate brown and plain, the other mustard, with a simple, horizontal black line over the chest. "Hold these."

Connor happily obliged, then followed her further down the aisle. This should be fun.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"You done?" (Y/n) asked from the other side of the curtain from the changing room.

Connor rolled back his shoulders, adjusting the mustard shirt, smoothing it down, and checked the black jeans again. Good enough, he concluded with a satisfied smile.

"Yes." He answered and pulled away the curtain, revealing himself to (y/n).

"Fuck, you look amazing! Who would've thought yellow would look this great on you?" She almost squealed, walking around him to take him in from all angles. Connor could only chuckle at her enthusiasm.

"Okay, coat!" She smiled and handed him a dark brown one that almost reached his knees, with a wide collar at the front. "Put it on."

Connor took it from her and slithered his arms inside the sleeves, then buttoned it up before turning around to preen himself in the mirror.

"Woaaaah..." (y/n) was speechless, and Connor could only try to stifle a laugh at her expression. The coat made his shoulders appear even wider than they already were, and compared to his Cyberlife jacket, puffed out his chest more. Connor popped the collar, but then decided to smooth it back down instead. "Don't care how much this costs, I'm buying it."

"You should probably manage your money better, (y/n)." Connor smiled at her reflection almost smugly, to which she shrugged.

"I mean, I was saving up for an Android body, but, who needs that when I've got you?" The young woman smiled back at him. "Besides, we can't have you walking around in Zlatko's coat for years. That'd just be...tasteless."

"I'm sorry, but since when are drug dealers supposed to be fashionable?"

"Since when aren't they?" (Y/n) grinned, then nodded for Connor to follow her to the checkout. "Come on."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"What do you have in mind?" Connor asked, following (y/n) down a crowded street, hands stuffed in the fuzzy pockets of his coat. The January cold didn't bother him, but it certainly felt welcoming to have something to keep him warm.

"Well, I was thinking that I'd take you to Chandler Park on our way back to the boat, drop off your old clothes there, and after that, we can go to the club, sell some more. You don't have to, of course. You can just...stay home, or go out, or...whatever you want."

"Shouldn't we perhaps give back Zlatko's coat?"

"No, he hates visitors during the day. Who even knows what he does in that dark hole he lives in." (Y/n) scoffed and shook her head as she walked. "Probably fucks modified Androids all day long."

"How does he earn a living?"

"Doesn't need to, he's a mecha. And he doesn't have to pay bills for living in an abandoned metro station." The young woman shrugged. "As long as he gets his Axy, he's happy."

"That's rather..." Connor began, unable to identify a fitting word for the described situation.

"Depressing, yeah."

"I suppose you strive for more, then?" The deviant began, hoping to come off as...sensible and thoughtful? He didn't know what exactly he had been trying to do.

"What's that supposed to mean?" (Y/n) asked with an amused huff.

"Do you hope to one day improve your living conditions, for instance?"

"I mean, yeah. But that's..." She let a small sigh of tiredness slip. "That's gonna take quite a while."

"I'll gladly help." Connor interrupted with an encouraging smile.

"You're too sweet." (Y/n) reciprocated the gesture and moved closer to Connor, linking her arm around his. "Thank you."

Core temperature: +5 degrees

A message in his vision prompted up, and Connor rushed to close it, as if (y/n) could see it, somehow.

As soon as it was gone, the deviant tilted his face towards the young woman, only to realize she was already looking at him with an amused glint in her eye.

"What's the matter?" The deviant asked, voice faltering at the end of the sentence.

"Your blush is blue, did you know that?" She snickered. Connor could only look away sheepishly, in a hopeless attempt to avoid her gaze. "It's so cute."

Those words were enough to make his core temperature jump up another two degrees.

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