lunch today was a burrito you'd snagged from el chips with your employee pass. it wasn't anything much, just a tortilla with some beans slapped inside and cheese for extra flavor. rather sad, now that you thought about it, but at least the sauces you'd added made it taste better.
you often took your lunch break in the daycare, nestled comfortably in the chair behind the unused security desk. so that's where you were, taking advantage of naptime to eat your food in a quiet, peaceful place. it was dark, but the lighting from the windows behind you was enough to allow you to see. that and the small lamp positioned in a little corner of the desk.
you took another bite out of your burrito, mindful of the crinkling aluminum, then paused halfway through chewing. "you've been staring at me for the last ten minutes."
moon's face plate clicked to the side, his squatted position atop the desk before you making him loom rather ominously over your much smaller form. "messy," was his short response, though it only made you roll your eyes.
"i'm not messy and you know it," you replied and took a sip of your drink to wash down some of the beans stuck between your teeth. "you've never stared at me on my other lunch breaks like this. something up?"
he was quiet for a moment, light from his eyes painting your vision in watercolor ruby. then he looked away, turning his gaze to all the snoozing toddlers resting on the playmats. "...keeping you company."
you raised an eyebrow as an indication for him to elaborate. since when did he care? when moon didn't hear anything from you, he huffed—a strange sound, coming from a robot—and mumbled something just loud enough for you to hear. "humans eat food with each other all the time."
you blinked at him—the resolute way he was avoiding your gaze—and mulled over his words in your head. there was a tendency for humans to put meaning into shared meals—into spending time eating with each other as an act of friendship, camaraderie, or love. your gaze softened and you took another bite of your burrito to spare him from the embarrassment that came with being vulnerable.
"that we do," you said gently, then nothing else. a quiet settled easily between the two of you and eventually moon went back to watching you eat your food. very, very intensely.
you cracked after about five minutes, more amused than anything. "okay, what is it? there's something else on your mind, isn't there?"
"no," he immediately replied, then at the expectant look you gave him, he deflated. he tapped the metal of his fingers against the top of the desk—a sound that seemed to echo throughout the daycare. "....yes."
you waited as he seemed to ruminate upon his words, before eventually—at your gentle, inquisitive hum—he relented. "gustation is not one of our utilities," he started unsurely, tentatively. you tilted your head at him, curious at what he was getting at. moon hesitated for only a split second, then pressed on with what he'd been previously contemplating. "your burrito. what does it taste like?"
oh! you weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. "well..." you started slowly. "it tastes like... beans. and cheese. kind of spicy, too." when moon gave you a flat look, you held up your hands in a shrug. "sorry, you caught me off guard."
"we know what burritos are made of," moon told you indignantly, and you knew if he could, he'd roll his eyes at you. "we just do not know what it tastes like. try again."
you snorted and took a bit more time to think, taking a bite to chew more carefully and parse out the flavors. "it's savory," you eventually settled on saying. "a bit salty, but the blandness of the tortilla balances it out. spicy, like i said before, because of the hot sauce." you thoughtfully rubbed at your chin with your free hand.
when moon made a sound that was like clicking one's tongue against their teeth, you realized that was not quite what he was looking for either. "yes," he grumbled, "but what is that like?"
hm. this was getting more convoluted by the minute, but you were not opposed to taking time to try to explain flavors to him. you set down your half-eaten burrito and wiped your fingers on a spare napkin you had lying around. then you leveled him with a pondering look. he looked back, patiently waiting with his fingers tip-tip-tapping away.
you decided to start with the easiest one. "spiciness," you began, mind racing with what to say, "is like... holding something hot. like... when you overheat and your fans kick into overdrive to cool yourself down. it hurts, but it's a good kind of hurt."
he took in your words—digesting them slowly—then nodded. you continued. "umami is like… sitting at a hearth. uh, maybe like when you have a kid sleeping on your lap after a long day.” shit, this was hard. you stared up at the ceiling decorated in all its glowing stars as you contemplated your next words. moon only waited quietly and for that you were thankful.
“saltiness is like— like a steely tang. distantly reminiscent of the ocean.” you tapped a finger over your lips. he probably hadn’t ever seen the ocean, huh? “it’s like the color white. it can be used to bring out other colors, but too much and it just ruins everything.”
you hadn’t mentioned the other three tastes in describing your burrito, but you might as well for his sake. “sourness is like a zap of electricity. very sharp! kind of like…” you trailed off and gestured at moon to come closer. he was limited due to his protocols restricting him from passing beyond the desk, but he could at least lean forward enough that you could reach up to his face. he gave you a curious look, and you almost felt bad when you gave him a flick on the forehead. a small twang echoed from the contact of your nails on metal. “like that.”
“ow,” moon said in a deadpanned voice as he leaned away from you. one of his hands lifted to cover his forehead, and you chuckled before continuing your little lesson.
“sweetness is easy. it’s like a kiss on the cheek or a hug from someone you really like,” you said with a small smile. moon’s face plate tilted to the right at that, his gaze locked onto your face. tap-tap-tap went his fingers. “and last, but certainly not least, bitterness is like… hm… like”—you pulled a face, scrunching up your nose and sticking your tongue out—“like that. unpleasant. a battery that has melted apart.”
you picked back up your burrito and took a bite from it, letting moon stew in your words in the meantime. it looked like he was in a completely different world and you wondered what was going on inside that flat head of his. you swallowed down your bite and added “i’m sure there are better ways to describe them, but that’s all i’ve got for now.” you shrugged.
there was a quiet, quiet moment where moon just stared down at you. a tension seemed to line his shoulders and back, expressed only via the fidgeting of his hands. you raised an eyebrow, only slightly concerned. “…something on your mind?” you asked gently. and just when you thought he wasn’t going to say anything for the rest of your lunch break, he seemed to deflate and reached out a hand towards your face.
“thank you,” he mumbled, the smooth metal of his thumb swiping over the plushness of your bottom lip. it was cold. you had to suppress a shiver. your breath got caught up in your lungs, a burning sensation crawling its way up your neck as you watched him carefully. he leaned back and regarded the smudge of hot sauce on his thumb. you had to resist the sudden, vicious urge to lick at your lips.
the entire daycare seemed to hold its breath.
“what we wouldn’t give,” moon eventually said lowly, something indecipherable tinging his voice, “to share a meal with you.” an ache nestled itself in your chest.
and then he sighed—longing and wistful. the sound getting swallowed up by the vastness of the daycare.
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a sigh leaves your lips as you lay back against the grass of a small hill, basking in the oozing warmth from the sun above. a gentle breeze glides by and causes stray strands of your hair to wave around your face. they tickle at the skin of your cheeks and forehead. there’s a certain quietude to the air, broken only by the occasional bird or rustling leaves from the gingko tree sitting at the crux of the hill.
you could stay here for hours, you think, as you watch puffy, white clouds lazily making their way across a bright blue sky. just relaxing and enjoying one of the many things nature has to offer—a beautiful spectacle free of charge. unappreciated in these contemporary times.
the soft jingle of bells catches your attention before a hand appears in front of your face—stark against the sky’s backdrop behind it. two metal fingers pinch something together between them. like he had plucked it right from the very hill you sat upon.
“what is this?” moon’s voice is low yet inquisitive, holding the stalk of the plant in his grasp.
“oh!” you sit up with a little gasp of delight and turn to face him sitting cross-legged by your side. “it’s a dandelion!”
“it does not look like one,” he says flatly as he brings it closer to his face in observation. he spins it around carefully, rotating the stem between his fingers.
you chortle. “well, no. this one’s at the end stage of its life cycle. see the fluffy white bits? those are seeds.”
moon’s head tilts slightly to the side, a click coming from his faceplate. “seeds?”
“yeah, humans blow on ‘em to make a wish. it’s a superstition,” you tell him and lean back against your palms propped up behind you.
moon hums—soft, dolce—and holds the dandelion in front of his static smile. he makes a motion like he’s taking a breath, then slouches forward slightly and spins his face around in a rather pouty manner. “no lungs.”
you can’t help the laugh that escapes you. “sorry, bud.” you offer him a consoling pat on the arm and he deflates even further. drama queen. “hey, tell you what. you make your wish and i’ll blow on the dandelion. it’ll be a team effort. sound good?”
moon makes a sound as though he’s considering your offer, but it doesn’t take him long to agree. “deal,” he says simply and holds out his hand so that the dandelion hovers before your mouth.
you offer him a grin, and then you inhale deeply before blowing on the aging dandelion. its seeds scatter in a puffy cloud of white, taking to the sky as the wind carries them up and away in an aimless dance. moon watches them carefully as he ponders upon his wish and then—
and then moon opens his eyes.
the daycare is dark. quiet. alight only from the artificial stars above. his gaze moves about, slowly, steadily, painting his surroundings in ruby. he sighs and it gets lost in the stale, open air.
moon thinks about you. he thinks about the outside world with its blue sky and flimsy flowers. and he thinks about a wish, clutched deeply to his chest. a wish involving you and him together, sitting on a hill. watching clouds drift by on a summertime breeze.
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