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He had been playing with your hand for about fifteen minutes now.
Maybe some part of you had originally intended on asking him what he was doing, but as soon as you saw the look on Bowyer's face, it vanished. He started out by pressing down on the palm of your hand. Then Bowyer ran his thumb across your knuckles, which lead into him messing about with it in general. It was kind of cute in a way.
So there you sat on the couch, content, as Bowyer toyed with your hand. Even if it was a little odd to see him so calm.
Then artificially bright blue eyes looked into yours.
Upon the realisation that you had been staring at him, Bowyer released your hand. He even scooted away from you a little bit, mumbling something you couldn't understand.
"I don't mind," you spoke up, answering an unasked question.
Bowyer inched towards you again, slightly hesitant. Eventually, your hand was held in his again. Although this time, he'd pause every once in a while and look up at you. Each time you'd just smile and Bowyer would continue playing with your hand. He was being quite gentle, you couldn't tell if you had only noticed just now or if it was Bowyer just being more careful.
"You're acting like you've never seen my hand before," you chuckle. You can't help it. He's been with you for quite a while now, it's only recently that he has been acting like this.
A short mechanical whir came from Bowyer, you assumed it was his version of a huff. Folding his arms, he said "My fault it isn't, nya! Just strange, fleshy things are!"
It's not the first time he's said something like that. You decide to humour him.
"Oh yeah? How come?"
He pauses, his fingers twitch and his eyes spin. You can wait.
After a few moments, Bowyer had finally seemed to come up with a few answers. "First off, nya," he began, "so fragile, all of you are. Too easy it is for you to get hurt. Care too much about appearances, some of you do as well!"
As Bowyer continued, you were now sitting cross-legged on the couch, listening intently to his reasonings.
"And- and-" Bowyer was starting to stammer now, "weirdly soft and squishy and adorable you are, nya,"
Bowyer's voice trailed off, now completely silent and his body frozen in place. You sat up completely now, taking notice of Bowyer's tense form. The only thing confirming that he hadn't shut off was the sound of his cooling fans. Unsure of what to do next, you stayed still, waiting for any sign of movement from Bowyer. When nothing changes, you lean closer to him and place a hand on his shoulder. He was a lot warmer than usual.
"Hey, you doin' alright?" you ask Bowyer. For a split second, his eyes meet yours, immediately after however he looks away from you. One of his legs kept quickly bouncing up and down. You decide to remove your hand from his shoulder to give him some space.
"I- ah-" Bowyer tried to speak, "sorry, nya,"
"Wh-" you paused, "why would you need to be sorry?"
Bowyer merely shrugs, refusing to even look at you. You sighed, shoulders drooping as you did so. Admittedly, it wasn't the first time something like this happened. Sometimes you'd notice him try to get a little close to you, and every time he ended up backing away from you. If you questioned him about it, Bowyer would become somewhat stand-offish or pretend he didn't hear you. Today was the closest that Bowyer has gotten to you so far.
"Bowyer, dude, you're fine. You don't need to be sorry for anything." maybe being more casual about it will help him relax somewhat?
Thankfully, there's at least some progress made as Bowyer turns his body towards yours. His hands grip the couch cushions a little. "But, uncomfortable have I not made you, nya?"
"No Bowyer, you did not make me uncomfortable." you refrain from rolling your eyes. It wouldn't help the situation in any way. While Bowyer did seem to ease at your words, silence now filled the air and neither of you knew what to do next. Chewing on your cheek, you gently rock back and forth, wanting to break the silence but unsure on how to go about it.
You're unsure exactly how long it lasted, but it felt like an eternity.
Several more moments later and it's Bowyer who is the one to say something.
"So...fine it would be to-"
"Sure man, go ahead."
Immediately, he snaps into action and grabs your hand. This time he does it with more interest. At the start, Bowyer seemed like he was doing it absentmindedly, like how one would click a pen or chew on their nails. Now, tracing the lines of your palm with his fingers, he looks down at your hand so intently. As if he were trying to imagine what your bones and muscles looked like every time your fingers twitched. When he came across your pulse, Bowyer stilled for a minute or two, enamoured with how your body worked.
Watching Bowyer now gently squeeze your wrists and forearms had sparked your own curiosity about him. God knows how many times your mind had wondered off to think about how his inner mechanisms worked. What materials he had been made out of, who exactly made him in the first place. Though you likely wouldn't get some of those answers for a long time.
As you continued to watch him, an idea popped into your head.
When you removed your arm from his grasp, Bowyer held onto you for a few seconds longer before letting go. Now you slowly went to cup one side of his face, thumb brushing against his cheek. You waited for a reaction to see if it was okay. Bowyer's eyes widened initially. Then out of the blue, his hand grabbed your wrist, keeping it there. He even gently pushed his face into your palm. You can't help but grin at the sight. Using your free hand, you ran your fingers through his vermillion hair. It felt surprisingly soft.
Bowyer happily hummed, clearly enjoying your touch. You noted how Bowyer moved so he could get his arms wrapped around your waist, resting his face in the crook of your neck. It felt like a weighted blanket, if a weighted blanket was a gremlin with freakishly good aim. He was also a whole lot warmer than earlier. To be fair, he was never exactly cold but the difference from his usual temperature to right now was obvious.
"You feelin' alright?" you asked, you had a hint as to why his temperature had risen but it was best to double check that it wasn't a virus or something.
"mmhm," was Bowyer's only response.
After his confirmation, you continue running your fingers through his hair. Gently untangling any knots you came across. It felt nice, feels nice.
Then you noticed his posture. Usually when the string in his back was tied he'd be standing straight, but as of right now Bowyer's head was slightly bent down so you could comb through his hair. It probably wasn't too much of an issue for him considering the lack of muscles and what not. However if there's anything you've learned about him it's that he can definitely feel things, and you certainly wouldn't be comfortable if you had to stay like that for long.
You make an attempt to shift your body without disturbing Bowyer but as soon as you do he lifts his head, raising one side of his unibrow at you.
"Just wanted to lie down," you say as soon as he takes notice.
Bowyer then loosens his hold on you, but still seemed intent on holding some form of contact with you as the both of you begin moving. It's a little awkward with Bowyer's refusal to completely let go of you, but eventually you made it work. Now, your back rests against the cushions of your couch and Bowyer had his head placed on your chest. Thankfully, he made sure that his pointed nose didn't jab you in any way. The whirring of his cooling fans was extremely loud, you're pretty sure you've never heard them get to this volume before. You'd probably tease him about that later.
Sighing, you completely relax and close your eyes, practically melting into the couch when....
Click!
Reopening your eyes, you immediately took notice of Bowyer cooling down and the lack of noise.
He had shut down.
Looks like you're gonna be stuck here for a while
