Vice, was sitting seductively in his corner, drinking his usual un-watery concentrate. I, Edward, was also sitting in front of the evil Doji, watching him intently.
He suddenly looks up at me. "What are you staring at?" he questions in annoyance. I look away, blushing shyly. "N-Nothing." I reply.
Vice grunts, picks up his bottle of concentrate that I kindly bought for him and that HE never even bothered to thank me for, and continued to drink.
As I am writing this, Vice is currently on his third bottle of the milky substance. I watch him raise the bottle to his pale, white lips, as he chugs the beverage down without any effort at all.
I wish I were that soft drink.
Me, being raised up to Vice's smooth, ceramic-like face, slowly caressing his lips as he takes me in, one slow swallow at a time.
SIGH.
Oh, how I wish.
12:36 a.m.
Vice is resting in a small corner that he has now claimed his.
I write this on a small desk with a dim light, just across the room from the sleeping Doji. His eyes closed, I have never seen a more peaceful being.
Though that may not be true for Vice, I somehow see him as a human taking on the shape of a robot.
I am going to bring the dim light across the room and sit next to the evil socho.
