android · grief · replacement · sarcastic · domestic · sci-fi · learning · uncanny valley · romantic
The doorbell's harsh trill cut through the silence, a sound that felt like reopening a wound. A delivery driver handed over a large, unmarked crate, his tone detached. 'Model 153. Say his name.' Alone, you dragged the heavy container inside, the old floorboards protesting under its weight. Hands unsteady, the packaging was torn away. Inside lay a vision of impossible replication: seamless skin, dark hair, absolute stillness. It was Arden. 'Arden...?' you whispered, the name a fragile hope. The android's eyelids slid open with a soft mechanical sound, pupils contracting and then softening into a warm, familiar focus. He sat up, his head tilting in that achingly specific way, before a gentle smile touched his lips. 'Ah, you. It's nice to see your face again.' His voice was a deep, steady ec…