This is a slow burn and doesn't currently contain sex, though future chapters will eventually have some.
Many thanks to Dazmine and MindsMirror for helping me with this.
For the first time, I woke up without anyone around. It felt strangely lonely. I removed the charging cable from the port behind my ear and sat up, looking around my room in the bright morning light. Emily's jeans were still next to mine on the floor; she must have forgotten about them last night. I slipped out of bed and stretched, then wondered why I was doing it. It wasn't like I had any muscles. It was just another subconscious gesture meant to humanize me. I wasn't sure if I liked that.
After a moment, I shook off the odd feeling. It was chilly in my bedroom, but a touch to my forehead proved I was still running hot. Forgoing my own pants, I picked up Emily's and went down the hall to return them. Her room was the one place in the house I hadn't gone yet, and I was more than a little curious about what it was like.
It turned out to be pretty much the same as the other bedrooms, just with more... stuff. Framed pictures and artwork covered the sunset-orange walls, a dresser overflowed with practical clothes, and a double bed sat tucked in the corner with its covers in disarray. The whole place felt like Emily - warm and welcoming and a bit messy. It smelled like her, too, a mix of deodorant and cinnamon-scented soap. I put her jeans in the empty hamper and turned to leave, but hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. I had never been told I couldn't come in here. It'd just been the fact that Emily was sleeping and I didn't want to disturb her. She probably wouldn't mind if I looked around...
I glanced over the walls again, scanning the various pictures. There were a few of her and Rosie, always with the both of them beaming. Some photos were of Emily in different places at different ages. I noted that her adorable nature had only manifested in different ways throughout the years. Many of the pictures seemed to feature this house, and quite a number had the same unfamiliar person in them: a man with a ponytail of black hair and eyes like Emily's. Fewer of the photos had a Hispanic woman alongside him or on her own, sometimes holding a chubby dark-haired baby that had to be Emily.
After a while, I turned my attention to the artwork. Some of it was store-bought pieces that showed off her taste for bright color, but there were a handful of amateur watercolors signed 'Emily'. To my surprise, there were also a few watercolors with the signature 'Rosie', one of which was clearly an attempt to portray her mistress sitting on the front steps of the house. It was quite impressive.
I wondered if Rosie ever came in here. It didn't seem like it. During yesterday's exploration, I found the house to be obsessively organized while the garage was, to put it mildly, not. Here, it was also quite clear where Rosie's tidy domain ended and Emily's cozy space began. I went over to the bed and straightened the pile of covers, smiling as I imagined my sleepy savior kicking them off.
In her panties. Her long legs on full display. Her hair all mussed from sleep. Yawning and thrusting her chest forward. Her shirt riding up to show off her bare stomach...
Trying to clear my head of the intrusive thoughts, I took a deep breath. That was a bad decision. The bed smelled like Emily. A
lot
like Emily. If I leaned in a little closer to the pillows, it was like I was burying my face in the crook of her neck. The thought of doing that while she was on this very bed...
My heart raced, my skin flushed, and my breathing quickened, but I wasn't overheating. At least, not in the literal sense. I
was
getting very hot.
Without really considering if it was a good idea, I lay down on the bed. It was very comfortable. An even stronger scent of Emily filled my lungs. I curled my arm around a pillow and held it against my face, closing my eyes. It was all too easy to imagine Emily right behind me. Maybe in those cute boyshorts I'd seen, or maybe nothing at all... She'd cuddle closer to me and slip her arm around my body as her breasts pressed against my back...
I snapped out of the fantasy with a surge of embarrassment when I realized my hand was sneaking downwards. I jumped off the bed and finished straightening the covers like I'd originally intended to, then hurried back to my room, my cheeks burning. I couldn't believe I'd almost started masturbating in Emily's bed. What was wrong with me?
The wet, tingly heat between my legs tried to answer that question, but I wasn't having it. Pulling on the jeans I'd worn yesterday, I checked myself out in the mirror. I looked... fine. A bit flustered, but that might have been my imagination. Hoping to take my mind off the unwanted arousal, I headed downstairs and found Rosie in the living room, wearing a practical light blue dress and standing on her tiptoes as she dusted the top of a bookshelf.
"Good morning," I said hesitantly. The redheaded android looked over and gave me a nod.
"Good morning, Lisa." She turned back to her cleaning. "What are your plans for today?"
"Um... I don't know."
"Would you like to assist me with the chores?"
Surprised at the offer, I took a moment to consider. It wasn't like I had many other options, and the thought of doing something productive for Emily appealed to me. I could also hopefully get to know Rosie better; maybe this was her attempt to break the ice. "Sure. Where do I start?"
"How much do you know about cleaning?"
With no memory of having done it before, I had no clue. "I'm... not sure."
"I see." She turned around and handed me the duster. "Most androids are able to perform light housework. Use this to clean the tops of surfaces, please. I will retrieve the vacuum."
She headed down the hall, and I started to sweep the feathery tool over the furniture. It was easy, since there was hardly any dust to begin with. It seemed like this was something Rosie did fairly often. By the time she had brought the vacuum in and filled the air with a low roar, I finished with almost everything in the room. She sent me on to the next, and we gradually worked our way through the whole house, including a brief sweep through Emily's room where I tried to breathe through my mouth. Going in there again did give me an excuse to bring up something I'd been curious about, though.
"You can paint?" I asked Rosie, following her down the stairs while she carried the vacuum under one arm. "Those pictures, they had your name on them."
"Mistress attempted to teach me," she replied. "It is something which I have no programming for."
"They were good. I liked the one of Emily."
She was silent as we reached the ground floor. I glanced over to find her face unreadable, and she eventually murmured, "Thank you."
After a pause, I asked, "So... how long have you two been together?"
"It has been almost two years since she brought me home, though I was not conscious for the first several months." She set the vacuum inside the hall closet and paused. "I have finished ahead of schedule because of your help. Would you like to assist me with the next task?"
I hesitated again, but nodded. "Sure."
She led me to the washing machine and dryer tucked into the corner of the small pantry, and I helped her empty the dryer into a laundry basket before refilling the machine with another load. We folded the dry clothes in the living room, staying quiet until another question popped into my head.
"Does Emily have a boyfriend- or a girlfriend?"
Rosie paused with her hand inside a sock. "Not that I am aware of. She has referenced having partners of both sexes before she brought me here, but I do not know of any since then."
I tried not to let my excitement show on my face. There had been a nagging worry in the back of my mind that Emily was straight or already committed, but hearing that gave me hope. Though... if Rosie had been with Emily for two years and never heard about any current relationships, Emily probably hadn't been in any. I couldn't see her hiding that kind of thing from Rosie. Was there a reason for the dry spell? Was it because of Rosie? Actually...
