A Fleeting Glimpse of Love (DBH: Connor/ Reader)
Authorâs note: So I wrote half of this months ago but only managed to finish it now. Anyway, feedbacks are encouraged and until next time, my darlings!
Pairing: Connor x Gender neutral! Reader
Prompt: For as long as you can remember, you feel like thereâs a gap in your memory. Who could it be; the one who plagues your dreams with incoherent bits and pieces of memories?
Seconds stretched into hours, and hours into days when you thought of the gaping hole, which was expanding along the ticks of the clock, that your heart bore, and as if the God of Misfortune decided that their first gift for you wasnât altruistic enough, there came those shallow depressions and faults on the surface of your memories that became a sunken cave with its wall coloured in melancholy.Â
The more you welcome them into your mind, the harsher their affects on you became, and the damage done to you in emotional terms was only acknowledged by you when you could finally feel the emptiness consume every bit of joy in you. Even after all these were done to you, the culprit was painstakingly yet to be found.
Ever since the injury sustained by you during the android revolution, you could feel a slight breeze in your memories which was supposed to be stacked, indicating that there was a spot somewhere along the shores of the sea of memories purposely dug by someone. The void in your heart made you feel like there was single damning piece in the entire puzzle, that was your heart, that was missing and seemingly lost in the maze of scattered emotions and memories -- damned to the point that the thought of an escape to this suffering was something that belonged to a horror film, and hope deemed an enemy of this place.Â
Who was it that formed this unfortunate chasm in your heart?Â
Who was it that shattered your masterpiece of a life that took years to paint -- who was it that made the canvas of life so barren and lifeless -- who was it that painted your walls black and white -- who was it that began all of this?
After an unknown period of time, you unconsciously developed an attraction to the colour of earth: brown, the colour of the roots of ancient oak trees; of the chestnuts that provides an excellent, rich taste to the tongue; of the bitter, bold cacao that was yet to be tainted by the hands of humans, only to be turned into something that contradicted the originality; of the man-made strands of short hair that would dance along with the wind as if they bore some sensation of their own exhilaration and life; of the auburn tint in his eyes that spoke of great love, putting Shakespeareâs odes to a test.Â
When staring into the eyes created by the clumsy hands of humans themselves, profound, were they of gauche passion of an amateur; and yet, ever so deserving of so much love and attention that it was painful. Eyes, which on the surfaces were the barks and songs of nature that you dearly loved, and as one traveled deeper, that was to gain a deeper understanding to them, one would see the side that was touched by the silvery rays of sunlight of humanity. He was just that beguiling, and the feeling of staring into those eyes of his: heavenly.Â
Why? Out of all the memories of your beloved that were forcibly taken away from you, this was the one that created an abyss of sorrow that had no ends nor predictions of when it would strike you. Maybe this was because you were never really granted closure to the absence of the person who must have went through all sorts of hindrance and glory to offer them to you, and the inability to grasp even the silhouette of that person was enough to burden you with the guilt of thousands; it was as if letting something that your beloved had entrusted to you go without any vain attempt to halt its undue departure.
His love for you and only you; it amounted to the millions of fireflies during a rancorous desolate night that would guide you to a path that you have dreamed of ever since you were a child. Magical, was his love for you and only you.
By that time you were kicked out of your verdant forest of thoughts and flashbacks, you realized that you had unconsciously wrote âConnorâ on a piece of barren paper laying on your desk. Even if you have no recollection of when and why did you write that, you could sense a hint of intense despondency and separation of two lovers that took place sooner than what was planned by fate.Â
No great importance or attention was granted to the mysterious name, but after a few restless nights and unforeseen flashbacks of the blurry past that came in a tiny debris-like manner, you decided to inquire about it from your longtime best friend and colleague, who you fortunately reconciled with after the unfortunate accident resulting in the loss of certain memories, North.Â
âNorth?â you called out, your voice mildly shivering with uncertainty and fear, to which the reply was a simple âwhatâs up?â. âDo -- did... I know of someone named âConnorâ?âÂ
If only you had the ability to observe the tiniest actions and behavioral changes, you would have noticed the lips that trembled in hesitancy; the discomfort and worry that were etched in the delicate wrinkles that surrounded the eyes, then gradually scintillated and burst into hues of passionate woe and abnormally, relief. It was as if one was watching the play of Romeo and Juliet, only to feel the tragic tale stinging oneâs heart throughout the period of time in which the prominent play took place, and the difference in the ending that was yet to shock the audience who were destined to heave a sigh in relief, as if they were blessed by a happy ending to the distressing tale.
Another twist to add to the list was the shoulders that tensed up after momentarily relaxing, âNot that I know of... why do you ask?â North replied, and only if you had noticed the sudden change in the way she articulated, however you were too busy indulging in the disappointment, and for an unsaid period of time, you let loose and was soon, once again, engulfed by the profound feeling of his absence and the void in your heart.
But by the end of the day, you were not an Android and because of that, you failed to analyze the minuscule inconsistencies in your friendâs behavior. Perhaps fate had decided that the time when you would be blessed with refills of the gaps in your memory had yet to arrive. Perhaps fate had decided it would be best if the meeting between the both of you was the last in the blurry sea of memories. Perhaps you had forever lost his identity, and the chance for new memories to be created deemed futile.
At times when the clock struck twelve and when the moon rose proudly above the dark sky, you laid in bed, listening to the occasional sounds of fabric and comforter ruffling according to your restless tosses and turns, and as vigorous as your movements, your mind was tempestuous with indecisive thoughts and flashes of incorigible scenes before your eyes. Over and over again, you wondered and pondered about him, and whether he was dealing with the consequences similar to yours. Did he trouble himself as much as you did over the absence of one another? A thousand of questions risen and demanded to be answered but by the end of the day, a mystery and fruitless questioning were all they ever were.
Contrary to your expectations, your line of work refused you to dwell on seemingly pointless conceptions, and before you knew it, you were entangled with the police as one of the higher ups at the place of your work was accused of money laundering and scamming, and occasionally, you were called into for questioning. Despite the process being mentally and physically exhausting, you were intrigued by one of the Androids that was stationed to the case.
Brown eyes and brown hair that seemed so familiar to you, and yet, the icy blue eyes and bitter frown that looked so... strange to you, as if they were supposed to be something elseâ something different; perhaps it was the colour of the eyes or the way the corners of the eyes were sloped and the warmth or lack thereof from the lips. How could someone looked so familiar yet so peculiar to you?
That was everything you knew about him, other than the fact that he worked alongside the police and was partnered with a man named Gavin Reed. So far you hadnât made the attempt to gain some sort of answer to this mystery, and often at night, you would think otherwise. Maybe you should let curiosity take over your logical side once in a while.
Still, despite your nonexistent efforts, your eyes would often travel towards the direction of the wordless man standing beside his human mentor whenever you were bought into question. As sneaky as you thought you were, the Android was far more adept and skilled than you would have expected and had noticed your interest in him ever since day one, hilariously, but chose not to comment on the fact. That was, until one particular day when he seemed to make an abrupt decision out of nowhere to talk to you.
âY/N,â he called out, his voice deep as the ocean, smooth as silk and as cold as the Artic, one day just as you were leaving your work building. You may not know or may never know but he had been waiting for you hours long before the end of your work hour for some reason, and despite looking as composed as a man who has reached the highest level of understanding as life, he was as curious as you were. His feelings of interest and inquisitiveness were in contrary to what he was programmed to do; perhaps they were the result from being taught by his older model.
âRK900,â you replied quite dully although you would be lying if you said you werenât shocked at his sudden appearance. The case involving your accused superior was over recently and there shouldnât be any reason for the two of you to meet again, right?
âI... I noticed your occasional stares directed at me, Y/N,â he stated, sounding so bitter and cold towards the world yet quite nervous that he refused to look at you. After all, you were someone unique which he learnt from him. âI know I remind you of someone,â he continued, and as soon as he finished the sentence, your composure began to eat itself and you were, once again, disturbed and bemused.
âConnor. RK800. #313 248 317. Produced in August,3038. You met him months before the final Android Revolution,â he began, his eyes occasionally flicking towards you to check your response to the bombardment of information. Surely, from the way your lips quiver and hands tremble, he knew that you were starting to remember something. He could certainly thank himself for making the decision to come to you on that day out of his own will. Things were bound to end tragically but he thought that you at least deserved to be filled of the void in your memories and heart.
âThe two of you bonded rather quickly and... things happened shortly afterwards,â he continued, referring to the time you fell in love with the Android first disregarding the situation and tension between the two races at that time. At this point, he was hesitant to continue since he knew what happened afterwards.
âI... I...,â you stuttered, desperately racking through your disorganized thoughts jumbled with recovering memories for something to say. Connor. Connor. Connor. RK800. The Android who evacuated you from the riot. The same Android who captured your heart with his corky and unoriginal attempts at jokes and adorable behavior unexpected from an Android of high caliber such as him.
âAh... how could I forget him,â you laughed bitterly as you recalled the time you spent together with you tagging along him and Hank as an eager journalist. You remembered the way you two bonded and the amusing way he worried about the risks that came with being a journalist. Despite his concerns, you continued with the job and in the end, it was your foolish drive and carelessness that led you towards your demise; with you mortally wounded due to a failed attempt to photograph the confrontation between Marcus and the humans.
Sure, you were fond of the sweet memories that came first but you werenât so certain about what was coming at the end. Your legs were wobbling like an earthquake was just beneath the very ground you stood on, so you had to take a deep breath and take a seat on a bench bellow a nearby tree. The man near you followed suit and sat awkwardly beside you, making sure to leave a generous quantity of space between you two. Although he knew how solemn and troubled you were, he was unsure on what to do; whether to act as himself and stay still or do something according to what he would have done.
âBlood,â you mumbled, desperately wiping the hot, stinging tears streaming down your face before covering your face with her hands, plopping your elbows down on your thighs. You finally remembered, and as much as your head throbbed painfully, the excruciating pain in your chest was something else. It was simply heart-wrenching and suffocating, as if you were buried 6 feet below underneath all the memories and pain, guilt and self-blame.
Blood. The sanguine red liquid was everywhere, as you recalled, and it was yours that leaking from the wound on your head from the collision before with the concrete ground. However, you wished and wished that it was only your blood there, but at last, your pleas and cries for help went unheard. You knew and remembered the weight on your body as you laid on the ground, barely conscious but sheltered and protected from the lifeless body above you. The cold, bitter blue liquid dripped onto you from the gunshot on his forehead, and before you knew it, the last thing you saw before you blacked out flashed before your eyes at a painfully slow rate.
âOh god... please, no, please tell me it was all a dream,â you begged to no one particularly as you broke down once again. The pain of his absence and lack of final goodbyes devoured your mentality, and the guilt and blame on no one but you clung onto you with their malicious, poisonous long claws that dug deeply into your heart.
You hoped that his lifeless eyes were the last thing that you saw. You hoped that the reality was something different. You hoped... only if you hadnât made the stupid decision that almost took your life... only if you had listened to him... only if he was alive now. Only if you could convince yourself that things didnât turn out the way it did. Only if you could turn back time and... and save his life. So many only ifs and so much pain; it was almost unbearable; the feeling of having somewhat brought your beloved to their demise was damning, and you felt like you couldnât ever forgive yourself for not paying heed to his warnings.
But most of all, you cursed yourself for having the audacity to forget almost everything about him. Perhaps you wouldnât be suffering if you hadnât learnt about him; however, you still felt it wasnât right for you to forget someone who sacrificed himself for you and only you.
âIf he was only here,â you told yourself, âI would tell him how much I love and treasure him and never let him go.â Only that was impossible now that he was gone definitely. He wasnât here anymore to tell you how much you mattered to him; he wasnât here anymore to tell you jokes that he googled on his search engine; he wasnât here to make you smile and laugh and cherish you. One moment he was here and the next, he was gone.
âI am so sorry... Connor,â you cried uncontrollably, wanting to rip your heart at this moment as it thumped painfully and rapidly within your chest which suffocated and strangled you from within. Your cries and screams resonated throughout the neighborhood as you grieved and grieved, and desperately wished for end to these mournful feelings.
âY/N,â the man beside you whispered gently, reaching out to grab your hand tightly to try to reassure you. The LED on his forehead whirled into a brilliant yellow as several thoughts and memories flowed through his mind, but the most prominent emotion was sorrow and detachment as he knew that these memories didnât belong to him. It had belonged to the man you had dearly adored and loved you. He couldnât bring himself to tell you how his predecessor passedâ by desperately transferring his memories into the system and screaming your name over and over again until his voice broke and distorted into that of a horror; slow and robotic and devoid of life.
âHe would have wanted you to move on, Y/N,â he said before pulling you in for a hug, surprising yourself and himself as he was unsure if that action was based on his own will or Connorâs memories. Nonetheless, the two of you stayed locked in that embrace for a long time before the agony and despair in you began to subside. When you emerged from the hug, you were noticeably calmer yet still pained to the core.
âThank you for coming here to tell me,â you said emotionlessly and numbly with a heavy sigh, staring at your own feet and feeling your nails digging into your palm as you tried to manage your composure.
âItâs alright... everything will be okay, Y/N.â He said with a smile that seemed like a rainbow after a heavy downpour for you. It was flamboyant and abundant of emotions and familiarity. You bit your lips at the sight as you felt tears threatening to fall once again. He looked so much like him and reminded you so much of him that it stung a bit.
At the end of the day, your final wish was to be able to meet him again one day, no matter the place. Even if the time spent together was transient, it was heavenly and you were grateful.
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