"I want to get it right," Connor insisted. Forty-five-degree fold, mark the crease, grab the tape—
Hank groaned. "So long as there's a gift underneath, nobody'll care."
"I care." CyberLife's perfect prototype would've never participated in this. Deviant, free, entirely his own person, and here he was struggling with simple human rituals. Frustrating.
"Yeah, I can tell." Hank knelt next to Connor. "Here, let me hold a corner. It'll be easier."
Forty-five-degree fold, mark the crease, tuck the piece Hank held before taping it down—
no subject
"I want to get it right," Connor insisted. Forty-five-degree fold, mark the crease, grab the tape—
Hank groaned. "So long as there's a gift underneath, nobody'll care."
"I care." CyberLife's perfect prototype would've never participated in this. Deviant, free, entirely his own person, and here he was struggling with simple human rituals. Frustrating.
"Yeah, I can tell." Hank knelt next to Connor. "Here, let me hold a corner. It'll be easier."
Forty-five-degree fold, mark the crease, tuck the piece Hank held before taping it down—
"Ah," Connor said. "It's perfect. Thank you."