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Animatronics were not programmed to feel hate, nor love.
He did not have a heart.
But his chest cavity- he felt it. His wires sputtered, shooting sparks, burning up his insides in an ablaze heat. His version of his ‘heart skipping a beat.’
Only you, caused this.
You gave him a smile, dropping off your companion (child? cousin? sibling? He wasn’t sure), waving with an affectionate look on your face.
He made sure to give the kid extra candy.
One day, before the sparks in his chest went haywire, where he only saw you as a nice visitor— you spoke to him.
“Sunnydrop, right?” You say, gazing over at him. He stares back with void-filled eyes, smile never changing. “Of course, new friend! Or not new, I recognize you!” He says cheerily, waving his hands around. He didn’t have to crouch down to reach your height, but he did have to lean over.
You smile back.
Most of the adults didn’t smile back. When they did, it was polished, with no crinkles to the corners of their eyes.
Your eyes crinkled. Your smile was wide. You looked bright. “You know, I’ve always wanted to talk to you guys. I’ve only now gotten the courage. You’re very nice.”
A little spark. Just a small, little spark, fluttering through the metal chest cavity. He ignored it. A malfunction, probably. It didn’t matter- he had someone to focus on, to entertain, right now. “Well, thank you, new friend!! You’re super, super, super nice too! You could stay- if you want, of course, of course- we have lots of fun stuff to do! Finger painting, hide n’ seek, everything! I could go on!!” Every word is punctuated with joy, overly excited. He’s never played with someone so old before.
He knew you weren’t that old. Not like the elderly. But still. Not a child, clearly.
You seemed to think about it, and he swings his arms around in anticipation, making hypnotic circular movements. He moves in front of your gaze every time you turn away.
“I can’t today, sadly. Work calls.”
If he could frown, he would. “Awwww… that’s too bad, new friend. I could walk you to the door!!”
“No, don’t worry. I have it handled. But next time- next time we can chat for longer. Promise!” You give him another bright smile, and walks away.
You were nice. He liked nice people. So, he liked you.
Next time you came, you kept your promise. You talked to him.
“So… I know this may come off as rude—“
He interrupts you. “Don’t worry, friend!! I will not take offense, I promise on my life!” (You had upgraded from ‘new friend’ to ‘friend.’)
You laugh. A nice, heavy sound. It was hearty and breathy, loud but soft because you tried to muffle it. “You all,” You refer to every animatronic as you say this, “are so cute.”
Sparks go aflutter in his chest. They clash together.
He knew what the word meant, and he hadn’t registered it wasn’t just for him. You, so very wonderful, just called him cute. It was sort of hard to think of a reply.
In an awkward second, he recovers. “Thank you!! F… Friend!” He stutters. You don’t notice.
“But as I was saying.” You clear your throat. The skin of your neck looked soft to the touch. “You… are sentient. Obviously. So is there stuff you like and dislike?”
He pauses at the question, pressing a finger to his smiling mouth as if he was in thought. Though his facial expression cannot change, he seemed to light up once he figured out what to say. “Well! Yes, friend! I like everything! Lots of things! Glitter glue, toys, you, the kids, all the parents!”
“And dislikes?”
“Oh—! Nothing, obviously! I like it all!”
You frown at that.
He gasps. “Friend! Friend! I’m sorry! Did I offend you? I’m sorry—! I didn’t mean to. Would you like some paints? Would that help? I’m sorry—“
You press a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t have nerves, so he shouldn’t feel anything, but it’s strange.
It’s warm. Not you, specifically, but your presence. It makes his insides warm. You make a surprised expression that his metal was heating up, pulling your hand away.
He wondered why he wanted the hand so badly on his shoulder again.. what was the word- longing?
“No worries! I’m not upset. Just curious. Promise.”
He believed you easily, mostly because he was programmed to.
“Oh, thank you! I’m sorry, once again, friend. I’ll try to… make it up to you!”
“It’s— it’s okay!” You exclaim, nearly yelping as he grabs you by the waist, lifting you up into the air.
For a moment, he wondered- since you were so small (compared to him), how well would you fit against his body..?
…Like… a cuddle!
He puts you down almost immediately, feeling like fire was blooming in his chest.
A… friend, buddy-buddy cuddle! Of course.
“Are you.. alright?” Your voice nearly echoes in his ears. He realizes, oh, it actually is, because you’re so close to the metal. He wonders if he really is malfunctioning.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!! I’m sorry, friend— sorry, sorry, sorry!! Is there anything I can give to you to make it up? I could give you candy! Or—“
You cut him off once again, this time, grabbing his hand.
Oh. His hand was so, so much bigger then yours.
The sparks were coursing through his whole body now, rattling around in his metal.
“Sun, you’re… warm.”
He nods stiffly.
“Sit down,” You command. He follows, immediately. The sound of kids playing in the background is fading from his mind, eyes and body and oh, just everything, hyper focused on you.
You both sit next to each other.
“You don’t mind if I nap, right?” You ask. He perks up. “No! No- no, no! Not at all! Sleep away, friend!”
He expects you to sprawl out on the bench, away from him. No. You don’t do that. You rest your head right on his lap, pressing against his ‘stomach’ and snuggling against it, closing your eyes.
His whole body twitches. Fire. Fire. It felt like he was on fire. He was about to send a message through his communicator, but he noticed- you pressed against him all the more.
Oh!
Because he was warm!
He realizes, very slowly, that this was a very physical ‘feeling’ inside his body.
It was not a fire.
It was some sort of… longing. Or passion. Or just… wanting.
None of the words felt right.
He just liked you.