Work Text:
Riddle stared dumbly at the finished boot-up screen for a moment, before ultimately reaching for the instruction manual. There was too much that went into just booting up one of these dolls, and he began wondering if it was more trouble than it was worth.
Granted, he had seen the appeal straight from his friends. With Trey’s doll still heavily plaguing his mind, with the way that they’d beautifully arrayed the displays of pastries in the quaint cake shop, he couldn’t resist making such an opportune purchase. He’d be lying if he said that the notion of having someone watching him over him and caring for his home during his busy work weeks wasn’t appealing in some way.
And yet, he can’t help but feel like someone out there is having fun at his expense.
The roses in his gardens were in full bloom, and there Riddle sat, filled with restlessness as the doll trimmed the hedges. The past week he’d been unable to call her by name, far too consumed with the strangeness of these incredibly lifelike dolls. First Trey’s, and now his own.
She smiled with such sincerity and moved with such enthusiasm that, if not for the ring of light over her head, he wouldn’t have been able to discern her from a real person. She’d offered him tea — rose milk tea, with three sugars, just as he liked it — before continuing to work.
Sometimes, he debated returning her. Yet the reviews online all attested to her efficiency and quality of work, and aside from that, he just … couldn’t bring himself to. It was a peculiar feeling bubbling up in him that just couldn’t chalk up to something simple like attachment.
Maybe it was in the way that he pondered if beings like these dolls could feel sadness or bitterness at being abandoned. Maybe it was in the way it wouldn’t have mattered, because her memory would have been reset when she was sent back anyways, or perhaps she’d be scrapped if she was found to be defective in some way. Riddle couldn’t decide which was a lonelier fate, so he chose to hang onto her for just a bit longer. Perhaps he’d grow around to it—
To her. Her company wasn’t all that bad, and neither was her rose milk tea.