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The emotion that filled Milo at that was too complex to decipher in one sitting. There was a certain specialness to being unique, but sorrow in being alone, even if he did have Rowan. And Troy now. “I hope others can be like me someday. It is complicated and not always good, but I am glad I know what it means to feel. And eventually, even if I do not create art like this, I promise I will manage to create food for you worthy of being framed.”

Rowan laughed again. Joyously. Unfettered. Uncomplicated. Definitely Milo’s favorite of his laughs. “One day at a time. What else do you like, Milo? Keep telling me.” He pulled them along to the next piece.

“Um… the color blue, like most of my shirts. I think it suits me.”

“It does.”

“And the orange of your hair with darker reddish highlights. And the hazel of your eyes too. Those are my favorite colors.”

“Okay.” Rowan still had a bit of laughter in his voice, and it made Milo realize he liked something else. He liked making Rowan happy. Just their conversation, just this, what they were doing right that moment, had calmed Rowan from the tension he’d displayed while Ruben and Vincent were around.

And Milo was the one who had done that. He really liked knowing he could do that.

“Favorite means you love those colors more than just like them,” Rowan said. “As you start to learn and experience more, you’ll notice other things you really like, other favorites that you love. Or things you dislike so much, you hate them. It’s difficult to explain the difference between like and love, or dislike and hate, but when you find those things, trust me, you’ll be able to tell.”

As they continued through the museum, Rowan being so patient with him, guiding him by the hand, prompting him again and again to better understand the world with his new human-like outlook, Milo was fairly certain he already knew something else he really liked.

Maybe even loved.

Notes:

They’reHAZEL!

Notes:

Okay, Rowan’s eyes aren’t mentioned inCanonas hazel. They’re not mentioned as BLUE either!Canondoesn’t specify, I checked! Thoroughly! You can’t just decide they’re blue!

Yes, I realize I’m deciding they’re hazel, but clearly, I am right. HAZEL. End of discussion. (please keep reading my fic ;_;)

ROWAN

The outing with Milo had turned out exhausting but in a strangely pleasant way, despite the unexpected run-in with Ruben and his current bed partner. Rowan did like spending time with his brother, sometimes, just on his terms, with lots of advanced planning and mental preparation. Having him suddenly there when Milo was still a possibly dangerous secret had been heart attack-inducing.

Milo had handled it well enough, and afterward, Rowan had felt even more at ease with him as they’d walked through the art exhibits, figuring out more of the things that Milo liked and disliked.

He liked being around people, the noise and thrum of a crowd—something Rowanhated. He liked color, especially Rowan’s coloring and the color that Rowan usually picked out for him to wear—blue. Milo’s silver eyes, pale skin, and platinum hair just looked really nice in blue.

He disliked when people vied for Rowan’s attention. He got jealous, just like he’d seemed when he first worried Troy might have a crush on Rowan, which was apparently a crush on Raina, but Rowan would deal with that fallout another time.

Milo had admitted to him later too, when they were headed home, that he liked Rowan’s freckles, which were barely noticeable to most people, faint on the apples of his cheeks, butMilo’s robotic eyes could see them clearly and, as he’d put it, “I like them very much. I think I might…lovethem.”

That utterance and the way Milo had stared at Rowan through the dark sunglasses still on his face had squashed all the calm, good feelings Rowan had been experiencing because… most of what Milo liked and disliked matched Rowan’s own preferences or revolved around him somehow. He couldn’t be certain whether he was influencing Milo’s evolution. If he was, did that mean his apparent awakening was just more programming, more advanced deep learning, and it only seemed like Milo was alive?

Rowan hated how that thought had invaded their pleasant morning. But it had. For the entire rest of the day, even while they were both quietly working together in the living room, Rowan fixing the charging station and Milo continuing his work on Anabelle that would definitely spill into Sunday before he was finished.

Milo could have worked all night being a bot, since he didn’t need sleep or to charge for several more days, but Rowan didn’t want him overexerting himself, and Milo said he was pleased to take a break if it meant sharing Rowan’s bed again.

Butjusthis bed. Not his body. Not yet. Rowan was adamant about that, regardless of Milo’s disappointed expression. They simply slept, or rather, Rowan did, with Milo wrapped around him as they laid in bed together, but nothing like Vincent’s eggplant interpretation was happening until Rowan had answers.

It didn’t feel right until he knew for certain what Milo was feeling.

Ifhe was feeling.

Milo’s cooking experiments “from the heart” rather than following single recipes like he used to certainly seemed human, because he was back at it the next morning and similarlyunsuccessful. He’d tried making up for the bitter pretzels by making French toast so sickeningly sweet that Rowan feared his cavities might get cavities after only two bites. At least Milo had only made about half the mess this time—and kept all his clothes on.

Milo was eager to finish his work on Anabelle and was already in the living room, while Rowan multitasked between checking text messages—of which he had a barrage from Troy since as early as three AM—and trying to figure out how he could throw away the French toast and eat something else without Milo noticing.