Accelerating Heartbeat - Chapter 10
Pairing(s):KyuMin
Date started: May 9, 2012
Date finished: July 2, 2012
Rating: PG-13?
Genre: Angst, fluff, romance
Summary: Lee Sungmin has finally created a miracle robot, seemingly perfect in every way. But of course nothing can be perfect, and in this instance he's missing something vital: a heart.
Warnings: Character death(s)
A/N: Well... this was actually inspired by the story of Kokoro, sung by Kagamine Rin & Len xD Also, there's an alternate ending, but I'm not posting it here because I think it's the crappiest of the crap = =' Poster by Fateful Dreamer Graphic Request Shop.
Chapter 10: Thank You For Bringing Me Into This World
"Sungmin..." I say uselessly to his limp body. My words fall on deaf ears.
I have very little choice but to lift him bridal-style and try to carry him back to the apartment. Assuming I remember how to get there in the night.
Why am I questioning my ability to find my way to the apartment? I should be able to get there. I'm a robot.
Walking back, I ignore the staring and concerned glances from people who are sober enough to notice. Hopefully they just think that he is drunk, barring the obvious injuries all over him.
Aren't I supposedly hurt as well? I cannot feel pain or discomfort.
Anyway, the biggest priority is to make sure that he is safe. My own condition can come later.
As I walk, I try to assess his injuries as best as I can. They don't appear to be too serious, being mostly painful-looking bruises and scratches marring the otherwise perfect expanse of pale skin. Though there are a lot of them.
Why did he do this for me? Why?
He said it was because he loves me.
I must keep remembering that love makes people do crazy things...
A quiet sound breaks me from my thoughts and I feel him shifting slightly in my arms, as if he did not want to discomfort me in any way. I watch as his eyelids, fringed with long lashes, flutter slightly before slowly opening halfway.
"Kyu?" he whispers, barely audible. He tries to lift his head up from where it is resting against my chest.
"Shhhh." I hush him as gently as possible. "I'm taking you back to the apartment. Try to rest a little."
He nods slightly, letting his eyes shut again. For some odd reason that I can't name, the sight of his peaceful expression makes me smile.
The hall of the building is dim and quiet, which is not surprising as the big clock reads 23:18. His apartment is all the way at the end of the hall.
Trying to pull his key out of the pocket without dropping him is a pain because I can think of no efficient way to do it. Why am I not willing to let him land on the ground? This frustration nearly has me muttering out a string of profanities in various languages that no one wants to hear. Thankfully, he wakes up a little, senses my irritation, and mutely reaches into his pocket to unlock the door before seemingly falling asleep again.
"Well... we're home." I say when the door opens, to no one in particular.
Wait. Talking to oneself is a sign of insanity, right?
Oh well...
I even seem to be clumsier in the dark, which is a pain even though it doesn't really hurt me to bang my elbow on the doorjamb, trip over a bench or stub my toe on the edge of the cabinet.
I place his body on his bed before unceremoniously flopping onto my own on my back. I feel out of breath, a heaviness inside my chest, and vaguely ill.
I feel a slow feeling settling deep inside my bones- if I have bones. Did he give me bones while creating me?
...Whatever. I doubt that I really need to know, as the only thing I will be using that information for is these long, disjointed rambles inside my head. Not to mention that he is probably not in any condition to tell me the answer.
I think I must be slowly overloading and losing coherency, just judging by my current log of thoughts.
I should probably try to treat his wounds, shouldn't I?
Slowly, I roll off my bed and haul myself over to his side, plonking down in the chair.
It takes me a long time to undress him, carefully clean and bandage all the cuts (including one on his forehead, though none are bleeding), as well as all the bruises. I then put on him that dress he wears to bed (although why he wears that I can't fathom) and tuck him in.
I sit there for a long time, watching him sleep, before passing out myself with my head on the side of his bed.
---~***~---
When I wake up, bright light slants in through the spaces of the closed blinds.
...Wait. Did I actually sleep?
He is still sleeping, although his injuries seem to have healed considerably. Much more than I would have expected in only about ten hours.
I feel like I should be doing something, so I decide to try cooking breakfast, or whatever the first meal that humans eat is called. Usually when he makes it, he toasts some bread or something, and fries some sort of egg.
To be honest, I've never watched him cook at all, so I have no idea how to do this. Even when I run a search through my system for any information that might be helpful, I find nothing. I suppose he forgot to code that knowledge in me, or did not think it would be needed. I start attempting to cook anyway.
Some time later, my ears pick up quiet shifting sounds of the blankets and grumbles from his bed. Completely forgetting about the food I'm cooking, I scramble through the messy apartment (which I think I messed up last night when I tripped).
"Sungmin. Are you awake? How are you feeling?" I ask quickly.
"Kyu?" He stares at me sleepily for a second before snapping into complete wakefulness as he spots the stove. "Cho Kyuhyun, what the hell are you doing in the kitchen?!" he yelps and struggles to get out of his bed, biting back a wince of pain.
I protest against his being up and moving so quickly as he quickly fixes whatever I was cooking, which is sending up curls of smoke as if it came from a dragon's furious roar.
Oh. So when the food you cook is smoking, that's not a good sign. Right. I make a mental note to remember that if I ever cook again.
After he puts everything back in its right place, he somehow manages to limp back into his bed, albeit with me supporting him.
"Idiot! Stupid, Sungmin! Don't just hop out of bed and run around when you're that badly hurt!" I snap at him as he huddles under the blanket.
He seems to have difficulty finding words for a second, before retorting, "I have to clean up your messes, Kyu. Would you rather I let the entire apartment building burn down?"
We remain frozen, like we are in a movie, at opposition with each other.
I feel the seconds quickly ticking by as I stare firmly into those dark brown eyes (by the way, which are the largest I've ever seen).
And then I notice the corners of his perfect, pouty lips twitching, and him pressing them shut hurriedly. Is he doing what I think he is?
Then he bursts out into laughter, that beautiful laugh that makes me feel as if everything is all right, and life is good. As he goes through his laughing fit (combined with gasps and coughs as he tries to stop), I can't help letting a smile appear on my own face.
"What are you laughing for?" I ask him as soon as he's something near to cohorent.
"I... don't... know!" he gets out, before managing to calm down. "Oh, I'm sorry about that, I don't even know why I'm yelling or laughing..."
He looks up at me. "Kyu, you should smile like this more often." He says softly as he reaches up to pat my cheek. "Hey, the regeneration code worked." He goes on.
I don't know what to say as he hugs me as best as he can, enveloping me in that softness and warmth and the aroma of strawberries.
"Should we eat breakfast?"
He laughs again at my stupid change of topic. "Sure. I'll cook it, though. I don't need you to try again."
Date started: May 9, 2012
Date finished: July 2, 2012
Rating: PG-13?
Genre: Angst, fluff, romance
Summary: Lee Sungmin has finally created a miracle robot, seemingly perfect in every way. But of course nothing can be perfect, and in this instance he's missing something vital: a heart.
Warnings: Character death(s)
A/N: Well... this was actually inspired by the story of Kokoro, sung by Kagamine Rin & Len xD Also, there's an alternate ending, but I'm not posting it here because I think it's the crappiest of the crap = =' Poster by Fateful Dreamer Graphic Request Shop.
Chapter 10: Thank You For Bringing Me Into This World
"Sungmin..." I say uselessly to his limp body. My words fall on deaf ears.
I have very little choice but to lift him bridal-style and try to carry him back to the apartment. Assuming I remember how to get there in the night.
Why am I questioning my ability to find my way to the apartment? I should be able to get there. I'm a robot.
Walking back, I ignore the staring and concerned glances from people who are sober enough to notice. Hopefully they just think that he is drunk, barring the obvious injuries all over him.
Aren't I supposedly hurt as well? I cannot feel pain or discomfort.
Anyway, the biggest priority is to make sure that he is safe. My own condition can come later.
As I walk, I try to assess his injuries as best as I can. They don't appear to be too serious, being mostly painful-looking bruises and scratches marring the otherwise perfect expanse of pale skin. Though there are a lot of them.
Why did he do this for me? Why?
He said it was because he loves me.
I must keep remembering that love makes people do crazy things...
A quiet sound breaks me from my thoughts and I feel him shifting slightly in my arms, as if he did not want to discomfort me in any way. I watch as his eyelids, fringed with long lashes, flutter slightly before slowly opening halfway.
"Kyu?" he whispers, barely audible. He tries to lift his head up from where it is resting against my chest.
"Shhhh." I hush him as gently as possible. "I'm taking you back to the apartment. Try to rest a little."
He nods slightly, letting his eyes shut again. For some odd reason that I can't name, the sight of his peaceful expression makes me smile.
The hall of the building is dim and quiet, which is not surprising as the big clock reads 23:18. His apartment is all the way at the end of the hall.
Trying to pull his key out of the pocket without dropping him is a pain because I can think of no efficient way to do it. Why am I not willing to let him land on the ground? This frustration nearly has me muttering out a string of profanities in various languages that no one wants to hear. Thankfully, he wakes up a little, senses my irritation, and mutely reaches into his pocket to unlock the door before seemingly falling asleep again.
"Well... we're home." I say when the door opens, to no one in particular.
Wait. Talking to oneself is a sign of insanity, right?
Oh well...
I even seem to be clumsier in the dark, which is a pain even though it doesn't really hurt me to bang my elbow on the doorjamb, trip over a bench or stub my toe on the edge of the cabinet.
I place his body on his bed before unceremoniously flopping onto my own on my back. I feel out of breath, a heaviness inside my chest, and vaguely ill.
I feel a slow feeling settling deep inside my bones- if I have bones. Did he give me bones while creating me?
...Whatever. I doubt that I really need to know, as the only thing I will be using that information for is these long, disjointed rambles inside my head. Not to mention that he is probably not in any condition to tell me the answer.
I think I must be slowly overloading and losing coherency, just judging by my current log of thoughts.
I should probably try to treat his wounds, shouldn't I?
Slowly, I roll off my bed and haul myself over to his side, plonking down in the chair.
It takes me a long time to undress him, carefully clean and bandage all the cuts (including one on his forehead, though none are bleeding), as well as all the bruises. I then put on him that dress he wears to bed (although why he wears that I can't fathom) and tuck him in.
I sit there for a long time, watching him sleep, before passing out myself with my head on the side of his bed.
---~***~---
When I wake up, bright light slants in through the spaces of the closed blinds.
...Wait. Did I actually sleep?
He is still sleeping, although his injuries seem to have healed considerably. Much more than I would have expected in only about ten hours.
I feel like I should be doing something, so I decide to try cooking breakfast, or whatever the first meal that humans eat is called. Usually when he makes it, he toasts some bread or something, and fries some sort of egg.
To be honest, I've never watched him cook at all, so I have no idea how to do this. Even when I run a search through my system for any information that might be helpful, I find nothing. I suppose he forgot to code that knowledge in me, or did not think it would be needed. I start attempting to cook anyway.
Some time later, my ears pick up quiet shifting sounds of the blankets and grumbles from his bed. Completely forgetting about the food I'm cooking, I scramble through the messy apartment (which I think I messed up last night when I tripped).
"Sungmin. Are you awake? How are you feeling?" I ask quickly.
"Kyu?" He stares at me sleepily for a second before snapping into complete wakefulness as he spots the stove. "Cho Kyuhyun, what the hell are you doing in the kitchen?!" he yelps and struggles to get out of his bed, biting back a wince of pain.
I protest against his being up and moving so quickly as he quickly fixes whatever I was cooking, which is sending up curls of smoke as if it came from a dragon's furious roar.
Oh. So when the food you cook is smoking, that's not a good sign. Right. I make a mental note to remember that if I ever cook again.
After he puts everything back in its right place, he somehow manages to limp back into his bed, albeit with me supporting him.
"Idiot! Stupid, Sungmin! Don't just hop out of bed and run around when you're that badly hurt!" I snap at him as he huddles under the blanket.
He seems to have difficulty finding words for a second, before retorting, "I have to clean up your messes, Kyu. Would you rather I let the entire apartment building burn down?"
We remain frozen, like we are in a movie, at opposition with each other.
I feel the seconds quickly ticking by as I stare firmly into those dark brown eyes (by the way, which are the largest I've ever seen).
And then I notice the corners of his perfect, pouty lips twitching, and him pressing them shut hurriedly. Is he doing what I think he is?
Then he bursts out into laughter, that beautiful laugh that makes me feel as if everything is all right, and life is good. As he goes through his laughing fit (combined with gasps and coughs as he tries to stop), I can't help letting a smile appear on my own face.
"What are you laughing for?" I ask him as soon as he's something near to cohorent.
"I... don't... know!" he gets out, before managing to calm down. "Oh, I'm sorry about that, I don't even know why I'm yelling or laughing..."
He looks up at me. "Kyu, you should smile like this more often." He says softly as he reaches up to pat my cheek. "Hey, the regeneration code worked." He goes on.
I don't know what to say as he hugs me as best as he can, enveloping me in that softness and warmth and the aroma of strawberries.
"Should we eat breakfast?"
He laughs again at my stupid change of topic. "Sure. I'll cook it, though. I don't need you to try again."