Silent Affection: A Future Popee x [OC] Reader

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Olive's  stomach ruled uneasy, her fingers twiddling behind her back. 

She stole glances at the man constantly , who still hadn't said anything.  He clutched the bag in hand, and waiting for the elevator to open.

As it rose up, Olive's legs felt like gelatin, as though they would give out any minute. She looked around, wanting to tell the man, but then she would feel even more guilty. As always, her curiosity had gotten her into this. She had wanted to leave this silent, beeping-filled place so badly, that she forgot about anything. 

The doors of the elevator opened, and Olive was "disappointed". There were no happy robot children scurrying up and the hallway. No pretty nurses chattering about. Just groans, machines, and of course, the obnoxious beeping.

The man turned toward her, at last.

"Go."

Olive jumped at his tone and attempted to sign.

'I-I..'

"What are you waiting for? I said, go."

Oliver strained with her expression, knowing that she made the man angry, but her legs simply refused to move. The man sighed and faced back to the elevator's panel, pushing up his glasses, and was about to reach for Olive when he heard a thud. Olive was breathing heavy, now on the floor of the machine.

The man jolted up this time, dropping his bags. 

"...G-Get up!"

She tried, but couldn't.

Her legs felt pained, paralyzed, and just overall, unwilling. It hurt.

The man pushed a button on the elevator quickly, that supposedly made the doors of it go back into position and faced Olive, now kneeling a bit. He hesitated,grunting and pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. He took one hand and turned Olive over, observing her blunt condition. He subconsciously took a finger and softly brushed a few strands out of her face. A smooth red formed on his cheeks,however as he swatted away his hand in disgust, realizing what he did. He put both of his hands to use and put them under the female, making her rise. He huffed in an attempt to pick up his bags with her in hand(s) and quickly walked to the left, trying to get to their room.

He hissed at those in his way, unaware of everything else.

"Get out of my way!"

They all muttered at the sight of him like this.

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The man threw his bags down and gently threw Olive on the bed as well, pulling a tall machine towards in it. The screen was black, meaning all previous settings were reset. He then noticed the wires, a bit frayed and ripped out. He held them in hand, an eyebrow raised as he thought to himself.

'Geez, what are you capable of?'

He fumbled with buttons and the same wires as he grabbed her arm and reconnected all the equipment.

He rolled the office chair and sat on it, sighing. He tried to regain his lifeless, doctoral look, and failed.

He rolled back to the desk, picking up his clipboard, frowning.

"..."

"Olive,was it..?"

He filled out another paper from his desk, the pen stumbling in hand.

'Olive.'

'Not ready to maintain a normal leg stance.'

'Needs an additional dose when I take her blood.'

'Needs more care, and close watch."

His penmanship was sloppy, as if not being corrected in the right way. It bounced in wrong places and made lines, where there shouldn't be lines. Some of the letters were curved oddly, in a way that made you think, when he learned to form his writing properly. Some of the nurses giggled at it. He simply paid no mind, as he thought it was an inessential part of life.

He got up, putting the paper in a basket on the wall to the right of the door. Looking  to the floor, he picked up his bags, looking inside them, resentful. It contained packages of those quick, microwave noodles. Lots of them. He unwrapped one of them and pulled out a plastic fork, getting ready to eat it. It was 1:59, after all. He had had nothing but coffee and a salad to start the day. Not the best, but at least it wasn't nothing.

Heading towards a microwave, he shoved them in, impatiently.

Leaning against the wall, he observed Olive, now asleep.

He thought to himself, once more, hearing the microwave hum.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Why did you leave?"

...

"You knew it wouldn't benefit you,and yet, you still disconnected. Odd."

Taking his "food" out after the microwave rang out, he sat back down, fork in hand. He always wondered why he dropped the habit in using chopsticks. He was mostly from Japan,after all. It poked at his brain as he ate silently. He didn't need much food to fill him up when he felt like this. Other times, he felt like he could stuff down a whole feast. But this was not one of those times.

Olive signed in her sleep, tossing and turning quite a bit. It intrigued the man, forcing him to turn and look, rather than just stay focused. It was a weird habit she had, indeed. However, she was born this way, her mother the same. Unable to speak. 

Mute.

Her expression changed, looking afraid.

Her fingers shook, clashing into one another clumsily and vibrating rapidly.

'S-Stop..'

'Please.'

The pain was visible.

The beeping from the tall machine next to her started to grow more rapidly. The man looked pretty "pained" himself, but not as much as Olive.

It hurt.

He wheeled the seat over to her, observing again.

Those nasty blue eyes, the dark history behind them, the cat-like pupils. They saw nothing but her at that moment. Something made the man felt as if he had to tell her,

'You will be okay.'

But his lips refused to open. That sucked. He sighed, head in hands pressed on his knees. He simply went back to filling out paperwork on the desk.

The rain picked up again, proving it to be a crazy season at this time. Thunder could be  faintly and the slighting yellowish-white lines appeared every now and then in the distance. People with umbrellas, hurrying to wherever. Whichever.

The man didn't care, he simply tried to find relief in the raindrops, hearing and seeing them clash into the window, and dripping down into the earth. 

Yeah, this sucked.