You reach up to brush your forehead, panting lightly. Your grip on your solid steel wrench loosens, and slips to the floor.
"I've... I've done it." You breathe heavily, as you inspect your best creation.
You are 17 years old, and your name is Equius Zahhak. You've spent a good chunk of your time studying the science of robotics; their structure and wiring has always fascinated you. Especially when you are alone, crafting the robotic creatures that many didn't venture to design.
"Oh my." You reach over and gently run your fingers over the still warm metal. The bolts. The glossy sheen. The fusion of metal to metal cast by a hot flame; it's overwhelming.
Some might call your creation disturbing. But you. You call it art. And art it is.
She's perfect, you think, as your eyes lock into the metal orbs of the robot. She wasn't actually functioning at this current point in time. You had only crafted her iron mold. But this was the first step- always- with your robotics. The inner wiring would come later. For now, however, you sit and marvel in her beauty as a bead of sweat rolls down your face.
"Equius?"
Your attention turns away from your robotics. You see her small frame standing in the doorway against the light of the hall. Your current room was darker, lacking proper lighting. As far as you were concerned, it was easier to concentrate.
"Yes, Nepeta?" You ask, rubbing your worn, calloused hands together.
"Would you come out here? P-lea-se?" The smaller troll asks politely, rolling her tongue to give her speech a cat-like chitter.
"I... Alright." You answer, and gently cast a long, worn cloth over your robot's frame. No need for it to be exposed.
You step away from your tool bench and step up the two primary steps that lead to the doorway, and Nepeta walks out to your living room, where she bouncily flops back against the couch, and pats the space beside her. Her blue tail hangs over the side of the couch.
You take your seat, as gently as possibly, with your hands glued to your lap. Nepeta frowns and pries your arm away.
"N-Nepeta, what are you doing?" You question, allowing her to move your arm for fear of harming her if you resisted.
"You can't stay all jumbled up!" She exclaims matter-o-factly, and leans against your shoulder, yawning.
This troll is... Adorable, in her own ways, you suppose. She was a cuddly moriali. But nothing more. For your love was lingering down with your work.
But your gaze drifts back from the door of your workspace and back down at the troll in your arms. She is so small, you think.
So fragile.
A gentletroll would consider holding her hand, or brushing her untamed hair out of her face. But you cannot. You retain so much raw power within your grasp alone. This was something different, for you risked snapping her frail fingers if you were to as much as intertwine them in your own.
Your gaze drifts down her spine, from the tip of her horns to her fursuit tail. She really is beautiful, in her own ways. But beauty can not protect her.
Only you can.
And so your gaze locks guiltily onto the floor in front of you. What if you weren't so cautious about your strength? What if you were to actually cuddle back with this troll? Or any other troll, for that matter?
Would their bones crush under your once innocent intentions? Would they feel a sharp stab of pain in return to their kindly gesture? Was that the kind of monster you wanted to be?
No, you swore at yourself as you watch Nepeta drift off into sleep. That was never the kind of troll you were going to be.
And that's why your true love remained unfinished. Because, unlike the others, she wouldn't feel pain.
She would be perfect for you.
But still, you think as you slip away from the small troll and duck into your workspace,
maybe I will never truly be able to love back.