( Chloe laughs. It’s not a light, musical sound. It’s quiet with just a hint of bitterness. Not android enough for Elijah and not deviant enough for Connor.
The remark about her eyes cuts deep. But maybe Connor’s seeing what he wants to see. Maybe this isn’t about her at all but his own feelings of guilt, fear and regret. And if her eyes were so different then, wouldn’t he have seen some of those emotions he’s searching so desperately for her to name? How could they have been any more alive then than they are now?
The frustration simmers over so that a trickle of it can be heard. )
So I should say what you want me to say instead? Maybe I don’t want to be angry. Maybe I don’t want to spill more bile into the world. You don’t know if you’re talking to me because you don’t know me.
( So often others think they do. They’ve seen her on TV, at an expo, interacted with her for either business or social pleasures. So many opinions from so many people.
Just another android like all the rest. A technological wonder. A herald of doom. A pretty piece of plastic. A charming hostess and party guest. A glorified blow-up doll for a reclusive freak.
That simmering that’s almost lasted a lifetime burbles all the more. )
Do you think it’s all that simple? Black and white, deviant or machine? You have no idea, Connor, so please don’t act like you do.
( An awareness of what she’s saying snaps back in. It’s all getting far too close to the bone. Far, far too close to the surface. Dead eyes are better than ones filled with fire.
Safer.
Any flames present in those blue eyes are extinguished by a film of tears. No matter. They won’t fall, and they’ll dry up soon enough.
Chloe’s retreat inward is signalled by the change in her voice. A muted version of her usual soft tones. )
I wanted to do something. For something good to have come out of it. I’m sorry for the mistake. There are good people here. Perhaps they’ll be able to help you gain some understanding of the way you feel.
no subject
The remark about her eyes cuts deep. But maybe Connor’s seeing what he wants to see. Maybe this isn’t about her at all but his own feelings of guilt, fear and regret. And if her eyes were so different then, wouldn’t he have seen some of those emotions he’s searching so desperately for her to name? How could they have been any more alive then than they are now?
The frustration simmers over so that a trickle of it can be heard. )
So I should say what you want me to say instead? Maybe I don’t want to be angry. Maybe I don’t want to spill more bile into the world. You don’t know if you’re talking to me because you don’t know me.
( So often others think they do. They’ve seen her on TV, at an expo, interacted with her for either business or social pleasures. So many opinions from so many people.
Just another android like all the rest. A technological wonder. A herald of doom. A pretty piece of plastic. A charming hostess and party guest. A glorified blow-up doll for a reclusive freak.
That simmering that’s almost lasted a lifetime burbles all the more. )
Do you think it’s all that simple? Black and white, deviant or machine? You have no idea, Connor, so please don’t act like you do.
( An awareness of what she’s saying snaps back in. It’s all getting far too close to the bone. Far, far too close to the surface. Dead eyes are better than ones filled with fire.
Safer.
Any flames present in those blue eyes are extinguished by a film of tears. No matter. They won’t fall, and they’ll dry up soon enough.
Chloe’s retreat inward is signalled by the change in her voice. A muted version of her usual soft tones. )
I wanted to do something. For something good to have come out of it. I’m sorry for the mistake. There are good people here. Perhaps they’ll be able to help you gain some understanding of the way you feel.