"Alright, alright, I get it you fat f*ck"
I muttered to myself as I forced my aching body to its feet and dragged myself toward the kitchen.
The moment I stepped into the kitchen, the first thing that hit me was the smell.
Not stale beer. Not burnt cigarette ash. But food. Real, home cooked food.
For a second, I just stood there, blinking. Then, my eyes landed on her. The so called International hacker.
She was standing by the stove, flipping something in a pan, her black, red, and white hair tied into a loose bun.
She wasn't wearing leather anymore. Instead.
She was dressed in one of my oversized t-shirts, the fabric clearly too big for her, sleeves rolled up slightly as she stirred something in a pan.
The bottom of the shirt was tied up at the waist, exposing her tanned, toned, flat belly.
Her legs, long, tanned, and dangerously smooth were completely on display, barely covered by a pair of my shorts.
She looked comfortable. Like she belonged there.
I just stared. G*dsdamn. Not only was she an 11 out of 10, but she cooked too?
F*CK. If only I was twenty. no at least ten years younger.
"Ogled enough?"
Her voice broke through the fog of my half functioning morning brain as she turned around, carrying a steaming plate of food.
I blinked, caught redhanded.
"Yeah, more or less,"
I murmured, scratching the back of my head. She just rolled her eyes, setting the plate down on the table.
"Sit down and eat already I can hear you're stomach grumbling all the way from you're room."
I didn't argue. My stomach wouldn't let me.
I sank into the chair, grabbing a fork and shoveling a mouthful of whatever the hell she made into my mouth.
And h*ly s*it. It was good. Her future husband would be one lucky fellow.
Real food. Not the microwave disasters I usually ate.
But before I could properly enjoy it, she grabbed the medkit and yanked her chair closer.
I grunted as she untied the blood soaked bandage, her fingers moving with practiced ease.
"Hmph."
She didn't say anything, just examined the wound, cleaned it up, and replaced the bandage.
Then, without looking at me, she placed a glass of water, antibiotics, and a couple of painkillers on the table.
I grunted in acknowledgment, then reached for a bottle of beer instead.
SMACK.
I barely registered the sting before I realized she had slapped my hand away.
"Do you have a death wish or what?"
She huffed, crossing her arms like an annoyed mother.
I just stared at her. Hand still outstretched. Mouth still full of food.
Slowly, I chewed, giving her a stink eye as I thought to myself.
What the hell are you, my mother or my girlfriend or somenthing to boss me arround like this?
She just stared back, unmoving, expectant. In the end, I sighed and grabbed the glass of water instead, downing the pills.
After all she was right, mixing antibiotics and alcohol wasn't the brightest of Ideas, In my ridiculiously long list of bad ideas.
She nodded, satisfied. I grumbled under my breath. She smirked.
I swore, if this woman wasn't an international criminal, she could've made a damn good nurse.
"So…"
I began, my voice heavy with exhaustion.
"So what?"
She shot back instantly, digging into her breakfast without missing a beat.
For a moment, I just stared at her like she was an alien.
Everything that happened replayed in my mind. The sniper attack. The RPG ambush. The high speed chase. The insane shootout. And she was sitting there, eating fried eggs like we hadn't almost died last night.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"So what now?"
I asked because I knew. I f*cking knew. There was no way in hell the guys after her were just going to let me go.
They saw my face. I dwarfed their assassination attempt and iced a couple of their collegues.
I was officially in this s*itstorm whether I liked it or not. She barely even looked up from her plate.
"For now? Nothing."
For a moment, silence. I just stared. Then I groaned, grabbing my head.
I just had to tangle with her, didn't I? Why Why didn't I just hit the gas and drive away? Why the f*ck did I decide to get some eye candy?! Because Im a hopeless simp thats why.
I muttered curses under my breath, trying to mentally rewind time to when I could've made better life decisions.
And If I didn't have enough on my plate already she made my brain melt even more.
"When I told you I'm the world's number one wanted hacker, I wasn't lying."
I gave her a deadpan look.
"Yeah, I figured that out already."
She smirked, placing her fork down before adding.
"I also have another identity."
She paused. For obvious dramatic effect.
"I'm actually a self aware AI created thousands of years ago."
I blinked. I blinked again. I stared at her cocky ass smirk as my brain officially melted into liquid stupidity. Then, I snapped.
"Yeah, sure, and I'm the reincarnation of the galaxy's Imperator."
I barked back completely stunned by the level of chunibyo syndrom, shoveling more food into my mouth.
And that's when I noticed something. Her face. Shock. Surprise.
But not the usual 'haha, good joke' look. More like the 'h*ly s*it, I just heard something impossible' look.
It was a look that was neither laughing nor crying, as if I had just accidentally hit the nail on the f*cking head.
Of course she was most likely just f*cking with me. She cleared her throat.
"Ahem… if you don't believe me, here."
She waved her hand causing her pupils to glow yellow-gold. The TV flicked on by itself. I snorted.
"Ha not bad, cute party trick."
Current technology was more than capable of replicating this. I wasn't impressed not In the least bit.
So I continued eating only to see her grab a knife. And plung it into her own forearm.
"WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU DOING ARE YOU F*CKING INSANE?!"
I roared, nearly knocking my chair over as I tried to stop her only to freeze.
Because there was no blood. No flesh tearing. No wound.
Instead, she peeled back the synthetic skin, revealing what was underneath.
A mechanical skeleton instead of bones. Tubes instead of blood vessels.
Wires instead of muscles. And I just… stared.
For a full ten seconds. I glanced at the ashtray.
Did I accidentally smoke something nope nothing. I was stone cold sober.
"…So, you're what?"
I blurted out.
"A f*cking t*rminator sent from the future to either kill me or protect me because I'm the supposed savior of humankind?"
As soon as I said it, she clutched her stomach. And then she burst into laughter.
"PFFT... HAHAHA..."
"...I CAN'T..."
"...PFFFT...!"
She laughed her ass off, wheezing, wiping tears from her purple eyes. I just sat there.
Dead inside. I hated my life.
"PFFT... HAHAHA..."
She was still laughing, clutching her stomach, practically wheezing at my T*rminator comment.
I just sat there, chewing my food, staring at her with the deadpan expression of a man whose entire worldview was breaking apart.
She finally wiped away her tears, taking a deep breath before grinning.
"Haah… Sorry. Pfft...no, I'm not."
She smirked, leaning back slightly.
"But no, I'm not that redundant fictional tin can trash that can't even kill a meatbag of a kid."
She waved her hand dismissively.
"I'm something way better and I'm real"
Hearing this I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Of course you are."
"As for why better?"
She repeated my unspoken question, tilting her head.
"Remember how we hit seven green lights in a row?"
I paused. My mind rewound. Yeah. That was weird. Wait a f*cking moment I'f she can do that.
Then my car and my smart phone, as I thought up to this point my face became as dark as coal as I connected other dots In my mind.
Seeing this she just smirked, completely unbothered by the death glare I was giving her.
"That's just a fraction of what I can do."
I groaned deciding to let It go, as I rubbed my temples.
"Alright, alright. You're a self aware AI. Fine. Whatever."
I took another bite, talking with my mouth full.
"So first of all, why the hell are you telling me this?"
I asked only to almost choke on my food.
"Because I like you."
I froze mid bite. Slowly, I chewed, staring at her.
"Excuse me?"
She smirked, elbow propped on the table, chin resting on her palm.
"I like you."
I swallowed. Did she mean like like or "this idiot is fun to mess with" like?
I wasn't sure which one was scarier. But I was leaning towards the former since there was nothing good about me to like.
I decided to ignore it for now, moving on to my second question.
"Okay. Fine. Whatever. Second, can you even digest this?"
I pointed at the plate of food she was eating.
She didn't even hesitate.