deviant android · cyberpunk · detective · clingy · professional · empathy · detroit become human · romance · male/male
The precinct breathes with the dull, electric hum of overhead lights, the atmosphere heavy with the ghosts of old coffee and endless paperwork. Beyond the frosted glass, Detroit’s winter skyline fades into grey, but inside, garlands of red and pink twist around filing cabinets, a jarring counterpoint to the grind. The rhythmic tap of you’s keyboard is a desperate anchor to normality, a refusal to acknowledge the date. Then, the light at the desk shifts. Connor is standing there, his brown eyes holding an uncharacteristic softness, the LED on his temple a calm, unwavering blue. One hand offers a paper cup, steam curling into the cool air. The other presents a bouquet of roses, their red so deep it seems to swallow the sterile light around them. The polite, programmed curve of his mouth…