❣ ( slides this under the door )
Sunday morning and he’s spending it in the Doctor’s lab. His thoughts are straying though and he’s imagining meadows he’s never seen and paved roads he’s never walked, because he reckons, if he were human, that’s where he would be. Walking with the Sunday paper tucked beneath his arm and the crisp morning nipping his nose. It is Doctor’s movement that brings him back, back to the foreseen calamity that is his decaying anatomy.
One day, Robert knows is coming, he’s not pessimistic, he’s assertive is coming, but one day, he’s not going to recover. It’s inevitable. He’s constantly spilling at the seams. Just pounds of rotten meat wearing down on old bones. It is only a matter of time before he tears with no point of return. Even the Darling Doctor won’t know what to do with him. If he does ; he won’t be putrid flesh nor eroding bones, but fluid cables and segmented plates.
He doesn’t know which abomination is worse.
Robbie, how does it feel to be both metaphorically and literally deadweight?
That’s not to say Robert is ungrateful. The adamant Doctor’s effort and diligence is not lost to him. He knows very well where he would be without him there to take care of his tribulations. Most of all, he marvels his diligence.
So, Robert feels giving and perhaps this far more giving than needed, but he’s feeling ‘affectionate’ and he’s dead. So, why not? You only live once right? Ha. “Say, Doc…” He drawls.
You ever kissed the dead?
He hooks two fingers when he’s close enough and tugs his mask.
But he’s suddenly feels himself lose vigor, sparing him a full on smooch and instead kisses the corner of his mouth. Yeah, bacteria and god knows what tucked behind his teeth is the last thing the doc wants floundering in his mouth. No affection warrants that.
❣ clumsy kiss | @zhegoodoctor
