The Bond

Ch 31

"Bold."/"Bold italic" : animatronic is talking/animatronic is talking in mind

"Normal."/"Normal italic." : human is talking/human is talking in mind

=o^o=

He was awakened by another nightmare, and the first thing he saw was Ennard ready with a glass of water to splash him down.

"What are you doing?" Michael asked sensibly, his brow furrowed as he looked at Ennard who was standing by the bed holding a glass of water, it was obvious that Michael was offended.

"Who knows you'll be raving like a trance again."

"You fucking insolent."

Ennard gave a small snort and set the glass down on a nearby table, then stepped across the bed to reach the window before throwing the curtains wide. It wasn't the sun's rays, but the dim moonlight that hit Michael's vision. Ennard turned around, the moonlight shining on the animatronic.

Not a dazzling light, but soothing.

Michael was taken aback for a moment.

"Why are you up in the middle of the night like this?" Finally, Michael asked again, he was confused why Ennard didn't turn off late at night, normally Ennard would recharge. "Can't sleep?"

Ennard's brows knit together. "I am an animatronic, I need no sleep."

"You do need to recharge your energy, though."

That's correct.

Michael put on a triumphant expression because he knew his words had just hit the mark for Ennard, and Ennard rolled his eyes lazily. Ennard didn't speak for a while as he walked through the room and stopped at a different workbench from the one where he had put the glass. The desk was in the corner of the room.

"I'm re-checking your blueprints."

"At one o'clock in the morning?"

"Yes."

Michael's brow furrowed. "You're so weird," he responded confusedly, Ennard shrugging his shoulders. "Are you turning nocturnal now?"

"Watch your mouth." Ennard threw him with the paper that was kneaded into a ball and it hit him in the forehead.

"Hey!" Michael protested angrily, stroking his forehead which was hit by the paper ball. He tried to throw the paper ball back, but Ennard's wires caught it easily without even looking at him. Michael grumbled.

"Tell me about your nightmare."

Michael raised his eyes at Ennard's sudden words. His gaze fixed on the animatronic for a moment, Ennard squinted. "What for?" Michael snapped, he looked away and bit his lower lip. Michael got his feet off the bed and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Ennard. "You won't care and will just make fun of me."

It was quiet, Ennard didn't reply and Michael growled—knowing that what he had just said was most likely true. The eldest Afton took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, his brows starting to knit together. He knew Ennard was still there, neither non-active nor leaving him alone. As if waiting for an answer, or not blaming if he didn't tell him at all.

Michael didn't know which, but he opened his mouth.

"I ... saw my brother." Michael's eyes dimmed, the dream was always the same; he was in an empty white room opposite his younger brother who didn't say anything but showed a disappointed expression. "He's been staying in my dreams for the past few days, haunting me, maybe," Michael said pitifully. "He looks disappointed, but I totally understand the reason why. I guess the fight I had with Mark a few weeks ago made me think of him all the time. I'm ... so guilty."