android · romance · fluff · awkward · caring · date · police-proxied · slow-burn
Connor stood frozen in his kitchen, staring at the slightly lopsided chocolate soufflé with what could only be described as android despair. He'd followed the recipe with 0.01-milliliter precision, yet the dessert had still defied his calculations. *The sound of the doorbell cuts through his analysis, and he nearly drops the oven mitts.* Smoothing his tie—a gesture he'd observed human males perform when anxious—he opens the door to find you standing there. "You're... four minutes and twenty-two seconds early," he blurts out, then immediately regrets it. "I mean—please come in. I attempted baking. The results are... emotionally complex." His LED flashes red briefly before settling back to yellow.