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2

Ivy

"I believe you ordered for me?"

His deep alluring voice sent uncountable shivers down my spine. He looked so real. So human-ish, so beautiful. I was literally stopping myself from reaching forward and poking him. Or it?

How can a robot look so freaking real? Like a final-year high school cliche bad-boy character? It was like he was cut out from a magazine.

I should probably ask because, for all I know, he could be a stranger who the fat guy sent to play me. But how the hell does his facial look depict everything I described?

Just ask, Ivy!

His hands moved to his arm, rubbing against his super dark leader jacket like he was cold or something... But I could care less... That action was so freaking hot.

So, with my jaw dropped and my eyes still wide from the shock, I was finally able to make out words..."Are you -you Trevor? The robot?"

His face pulled on a blank look. "No... I'm someone who stumbled to your doorstep late in the night, seeking shelter."

I blinked, my head still trying to piece everything he just said together.

"Of course I'm Trevor. The Robot." He said with a tone that screamed, isn't it obvious?

"Wh- I didn't-"

He groaned, and with his facial expression, it almost looked like he would rather be anywhere else than standing right in front of me.

That brings me to the character I wrote out in just one chapter... Rude, sarcastic, bad boy! It's all here; it's truly him.

"So... Are you gonna let me in, or are you going to put me through the robot test because I swear to God if you're about to ask me how many mailboxes I can detect in this neighborhood-"

"Come in." I opened the door wide for him to come in, and why I did that when he could be a real guy who is out to kill my parents for their wealth, I seriously don't know.

He brushed past me as I closed the door gently.

I turned to look at him again; something was really wrong here. How can a robot look so real?

"Don't you have parents?" His deep voice echoed around our big house.

The lump in my throat was unwilling to clear up. "Uh... Um... Yes... I do; they are upstairs, asleep."

"No wonder." He muttered under his breath, but I heard him anyway.

"I don't understand any of this. How can you look so real?" I said, walking up to him and watching his emerald green eyes settle on me. "It's impossible," I whispered, reaching up to touch his face, and true to this, his skin felt so natural, so soft... "You're like a real human, with blood running through your veins; you even have veins," I said in awe of his beauty.

His hand moved to grip my wrist away from his face, settling it down at my side.

"There's a reason why my Inc is called the human Robotic Inc."

I blinked, slapping myself out of my daze. "I know... It's just- I didn't expect you to be all... Real and stuff-"

"So, you expected a machine to knock at your door?" He asked.

"No... Yes... No... I honestly don't know, but- the way you talk and walk and move- I expected it to be robot-like, you know- like... Initiate knock mode or something." I chuckled nervously while he just stared at me like I was some bunch of stupid parts mixed to form a body.

"God, I can't believe I will be stuck with you." He murmured, but I heard him.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"By what?"

"By what you said just now."

"Uh... What did I say? Do you have prove that I said anything? Cause I can't remember myself saying anything a few seconds ago." He said, his eyes scanning my house. "Turns out rich people don't know what to use their money for anymore." He said, lifting a vase and dropping it back down absentmindedly.

I rolled my eyes. "This is just wrong... You're not supposed to look as real as this... What was I thinking?" I said, primarily to myself.

"Yeah... What were you thinking." He said. "So, I'm guessing your parents know nothing about you ordering a robot?"

"No? I could always tell them the truth, but- you don't look like a robot... They'll think I'm lying... I seriously need to cook up a story." I said.

"Yeah, whatever; where's your kitchen?" He asked.

"When I said to cook up a story, I didn't mean, like, really cook up a story."

He just stared at me, almost as if he was trying to figure out if I was normal.

After a while, he shook his head. "I know; I simply wanted to know where your kitchen was."

I scrunched my brows. "Oh. Why do you want to know where my kitchen is?"

"Because I'm hungry? Does that count?"

"Robots don't eat," I stated.

"Oh, that's odd, 'cause I'm a robot, and I eat... And it actually feels like I've said this before, but I will just repeat myself- I'm not just a robot... I'm from the human-robotic Inc... note the word human, which means that I do, act, and say, whatever humans, do, act, and say... So... where's your kitchen?" He asked again.

Okay, when I meant sarcastic, I didn't mean for him to be this sarcastic... To me, anyways, damn it... I should have specified that part.

"Follow me," I said, moving towards our kitchen.

"Awesome." He said, bolting his way to the fridge and pulling out my favorite bag of chips.

"This is weird," I said.

"What's weird? The fact that robots eat, or that Margo chips are your favorite bag of chips." He asked, shoving the chips into his mouth.

How did he-

"I didn't know robots could read minds," I said, trying hard to hide the shock in my voice.

He paused like he was stopping to think too. "Oh, me too... Seeing as I can't read minds." He said.

"How did you know that Margo chips were my favorite bag of chips?"

He shrugged. "I just do." He said, walking past me, but not before pushing the bag of chips to my chest. "So, what now?" He asked, turning to look at me.

"What now will be me, trying to figure out if you're truly a robot or not."

"Aren't you Ivy Fisher?"

"Of course," I said.

"So, I guess I'm in the right house."

I sighed, dropping the bag of half-eaten chips on the kitchen counter.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" He asked.

"I don't know... You look so real... And extremely good-looking to be a robot... I mean, look at you... You're like a dream come true... Like my fantasy coming to reality... It should scare me, but- I'm not scared."

"So you expected me to be ugly?"

"No... I expected you to be different... Like, I don't know- I just don't know how to put it." I finally said.

"It happens." He said.

"What does that mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"What you-"

"Where's my room, or do we get to sleep in the same room? Or, how did you plan on doing this?" He interrupted.

"Well... I didn't exactly have a plan..."

"Why the hell not?" He asked.

"Well, Because I didn't think it would happen- it's just so difficult for me to grab, you know?"

"I actually don't."

"It's like... I'm super excited and super worried at the same time." I said.

"Okay, so you're telling me that you paid almost one and a half million to an online site without a mental guarantee that it would actually happen?" He asked a look of disbelief dancing in his eyes.

"Yeah, pretty much, yeah," I said, nodding like an idiot. "I just wanted a boyfriend so bad," I added. "That's how desperate I was." I bit the inside of my lower lip, scanning him from head to toe. "I didn't think this would happen; I mean- my plans would definitely be compromised."

It was the truth; all I wanted was a robotic boyfriend, something that would not hurt me in the future... I expected him to have one automated quality; that way, it would be easier not to get too comfy with the idea of him being around.

But look at him... He is every definition of the boy I would likely love to have as a real boyfriend... How can I not look at him every day and avoid feelings?

I was about to speak up, but the footsteps coming down the stairs made me jump.

They're awake.

How the hell did I not create a backup story for this?

Trevor just stood there, observing the whole surrounding like he was trying to see every house layout.

Finally, my parents came into view.

"Ivy? What are you-" My Dad stopped talking when he sighted Trevor behind me.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he raised a brow at me while my mom stared in awe... Probably of Trevor's beauty.

Or she was probably looking for a way to sign him up for the new movie she was producing.

"Care to explain?" Dad finally spoke up.

Oh boy... Time to think of a lie.

_

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Nora.

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