We're vulnerable.
All of us.
We try to pretend to be tough so that the everyday things in life have no effect on us. We make a constant effort to be immune, so that the things that hurt us when we were younger, don't bother us today. But it does. We try to make others around us immune to those nightmares and it never works.
I'm still affected by my father-Mr. Robot's… His death. Or is it my own failure to him…sometimes I forget. I'm still affected by my mother. I can admit that too. You knew already how much people like me like to pretend…because what's better than forgetting the people who loved, hurting us?
Except when it doesn't work anymore.
There are ghost memories of her floating in my peripheral on a constant basis when I'm alone. It usually happens when I choose to dump my scripts. You know, you've seen it happen. A mistake…always a mistake that needs fixing.
What about Tyrell? I wonder, if whenever he's alone…does he feels his past creep up on him?
I'm not alone now.
His lips push against mine and I answer back with the same force.
Gently, prettily…softly. Better than the time he kissed me in the bathroom of that restaurant he took me to for lunch that day. If he did kiss me in his living room, this kiss probably would have been better than that one too.
How do I even know that was real? How do I even know this, is real?
When we break apart, slowly, he glances down at me smiling.
"My wife…she doesn't need me anymore Elliot. Ever since I killed that woman…I lost my job and my wife doesn't want me anymore. I probably will not be able to see my son until I do what she wants," he says, his smile now showing sadness.
He then kisses me quickly and whispers a familiar phrase to me.
"You said that before. What does it mean?" I ask, looking up at him. It sounds like a term of endearment in his tone this time instead of defeat like the last time. But, like I said before I don't speak Swedish and my phone is over there on the table so I can't use Google translate.
"Do you want to use Google...or would you rather I say what it actually means?"
"S-say it."
What is he afraid of?
His wife isn't here.
I'm usually more afraid of him than he is of me.
"You're not dreaming Elliot. You're not imaging things. I am on your side for as long as you want me to be. We are the same and are meant to be together. You know that already."
I stare at him, lost in my own thoughts while he's always swimming in them before I can catch up.
He's always in my head. Since the beginning-
He only stares back down at me in admiration or is it-
Shit.
I get it.
"You're in love with me," I whisper.
"Yes. I am," he admits, letting a small chuckle escape from his lips. "Why? Does that surprise you?"
Who could ever love me? Am I really that special enough to love for someone?
I know he's not toying me with me this time. But-
"Are you real?"
"Yes, Elliot. Touch me and see," he says, taking my hands to pull around his waist. I tremble as I unconsciously compare his waist with Shayla's. He lifts his gloved hands to cup my face. "Not only that, my love for you is real. Would you like to feel how real, it really is?"
I can't help but stare at him, wide eyed and filled so many questions.
Do you see this? Do you hear him?
Do you hear me having a hard time breathing, so much that all you can hear from me is that I'm almost gasping for air? Do you see beads of sweat forming on the sides of my face? Do you see Tyrell watching me like I'm his god in the flesh and he only wants to be my prophet…if I let him. This is so different than anything I could've imagined with anyone.
"Do you love me Elliot?"
"I-I don't know," I answer quietly. I can't stop keeping eye contact with him even while my answer seems to almost reject him. That's not what I meant. That's not what I wanted to say. It's too fast-what we have. I know his secrets and he knows a few of mine.
I know, I'm crazy-schizo and all that but-
He's lost everything and yet he's here with me.
He says something in Swedish again as he kisses my forehead.
He's keeping me out of the loop again.
The messed up part of it is, I can't read his face. He calls me the one constant in a series of variables but for the life of me I can't understand why he's hiding something again. Putting up a firewall to keep me out…even after he's told me about strangling that woman. Even after telling me about the power he felt-the way he felt wonder from doing it.
He amazes me.
"Could you say that again? I don't understand what you're saying," I say, feeling lost again.
I can hear Darlene yelling at me, telling me to focus and not run away.
When did that happen? This memory isn't recent.
"Elliot," he sighs, then kisses me, deeper and longer until he asks me where my room is.
"Don't you want me to show you where I work?" I ask him, gulping at his repeated request. It's hotter in the room now. "Where I've done, what I did, with the hack?"
"Yes, Elliot. Show me the way," he answers, as his hands leave my face. He watches me as I nod, and gather my things from the couch. When I turn around, he's still standing in the same spot, but his gloves are gone. I can't tell if he's sad or content, but he shows his appreciation to me when we finally get to fsociety.
~Mr. Robot~
Three days.
How did I lose so much time?
I remember when… I…to Bill.
To Bill…. Or was that Mr. Robot? And Whiterose? And Flipper?
When I went to see Tyrell in his car—No, that was Mr. Robot. Don't you remember?
I forget sometimes.
My brain feels like it's bathing in fire.
I'm not making any sense to you am I? I'm barely making any sense to myself.
Everyone's going crazy…somehow I feel like I'm the only one here keeping a better handle on fsociety's success and that's saying a lot.
Or maybe I'm just lying to myself and to you.
I forget how I ended up in Tyrell's SUV alone, banging on the dash and waiting for Mr. Robot or Tyrell to appear.
I'm waiting for something else. If there is a password somewhere, I could hack it to make whatever this lonesome feeling…this vulnerable feeling, disappear forever and give me my memories back.
Three days. Three.
How did I lose so much time?
Tyrell Wellick…how long ago did I meet him back at AllSafe? Seems forever ago. The times he tried forcing my hand to join him. When exactly did he actually fall in love with me?
He called me special. He called me extraordinary.
I'm just a lowly Tech who's addicted to Morphine, crying alone in my apartment and he's-
I miss him. I miss him.
I miss kissing him. I miss him talking to me. I miss his eyes. I miss him.
Where is he when my world is continuing to fall apart?
And why aren't you helping me find him?
END
I hope this one topped the first two. This is part three to my stories; "There He Is Again" and "Dinner" (in order). Thank you for reading. :' D
