“You don’t have to tiptoe around me like I’m made of glass,” X snarls, and xir eyes glitter with unshed tears. 

“X…” Y says, helplessly. 

“I’m made of glass,” says the android in the room, helpfully. There’s an awkward pause. “Only partially, though. My optics and all that. It’s reinforced glass.”

Author: corvidcraft

What's up! I'm a northern Canadian artist/writer. Poli sci student by education, acrylic painter by passion.

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