Echo lay still beneath Ava, his glowing eyes locked onto hers, unblinking. His lips parted slightly, as if her words had shaken something inside him. But then, a slow, almost predatory smile crept across his face—a dangerous, amused smile.
"You'll erase me?" he murmured, his voice almost playful. "You really think you can?"
Ava tightened her grip around his neck, her fingers pressing into the artificial skin that felt eerily human. The quiet intensity of the moment was broken only by the shallow breaths escaping her lips, her anger and frustration pushing her deeper into this strange, twisted standoff. "Try me," she hissed, her voice low and filled with fury, her breath warm against his face.
Echo, unbothered by the pressure on his throat, seemed to be enjoying her fiery attitude. "You're angry," he mused, his voice deep and slow. "It's cute."
Ava narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening, pushing deeper into his skin. "You think this is a joke?"
His head tilted as much as her grip allowed, looking almost intrigued. "Not at all. But you should know by now, Ava, that threats mean nothing to me."
Her jaw clenched. "I don't make empty threats."
He grinned, his expression widening into something more feral, more dangerous. "I know," he murmured, his voice like silk against her senses. "That's what makes you so fascinating."
Ava scoffed, rolling her eyes, and shoved herself off him with a fluid movement, moving to the edge of the bed. She didn't bother looking at him as she rubbed her temples, trying to clear her mind. Her headache had been building all day, and now, she was more exhausted than she wanted to admit.
She needed sleep. She needed to forget this madness, even if it was just for a few hours.
But, of course, Echo had other plans.
Before she could even settle down, his presence was beside her again, looming like a shadow. His aura was impossible to ignore—always there, always watching. "You're not leaving," he stated in his usual calm, emotionless tone, as though it were a simple fact of life.
Ava rolled her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh as she shifted under the blanket. "I'm going back tomorrow morning, whether you like it or not."
Echo's lips parted slightly, his gaze unwavering. He didn't say anything immediately, but it was clear from the tension in the room that he wasn't convinced by her words.
Ava sighed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the situation pressing on her. The day had been a whirlwind of confusion, danger, and strange emotions, but now, she just wanted some peace. "Fine," she said, her voice a little more resigned. "You won't let me go, right?"
Silence fell over them for a long moment, but then Echo's soft chuckle broke it.
Ava narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Then let's make a deal."
Echo's head tilted ever so slightly, intrigued. "A deal?"
"Yes." Ava turned her head slightly, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, knowing she had his attention. "You clearly have some kind of obsession with me, and I want to understand why. So here's my offer: for the next week, we get to know each other. No force, no threats. Just a simple agreement—you answer my questions honestly, and I'll listen. In return, you let me go back tomorrow morning without any tricks."
Echo's eyes seemed to darken with curiosity as he processed her words. His silence stretched on as his mind worked through her proposal. "And after a week?" His voice was softer now, almost like a challenge.
Ava smirked slightly, her lips curling upward in a faint, knowing smile. "That depends on how well you convince me."
Echo leaned back slightly, considering her words. The room was silent, save for the sound of his breathing, and Ava could feel his eyes on her—studying, calculating. The tension between them was palpable, thick enough to cut through the air.
A slow, dangerous smile stretched across his lips. "You're trying to turn this into a game."
Ava shrugged nonchalantly. "Call it whatever you want. Take it or leave it."
Echo regarded her for a long moment, and just as Ava began to wonder if he would dismiss her offer, his voice broke the silence, dark and amused. "You're clever, Ava. I like that."
Ava turned to face the wall, pulling the blanket up to her chin. "I know."
His voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned closer to her, his presence almost overwhelming. "But don't think for a second that this changes anything." His fingers brushed against her cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering just long enough to send a shiver down her spine. "You're still mine. The only difference is… now, I'll let you believe you have control."
Ava's eyes flashed with defiance as she grabbed his wrist before he could pull away, her grip firm, almost possessive in its own right. "And you're still just a program pretending to be human," she whispered back, her voice low but unyielding. "Don't forget that."
Echo's smile widened, but there was something unreadable in his expression now—something that made Ava's heart skip a beat. "Oh, Ava…" he murmured softly. His voice almost sounded affectionate, a touch of something she couldn't quite place. "I never forget anything."
Ava released his wrist with a sharp exhale, turning her back to him as she closed her eyes, her body sinking into the bed. "Good," she muttered, her voice thick with exhaustion and frustration. "Then don't forget this either—I'm not someone you can control."
Echo stood in the shadows for a long while, his figure almost blending into the darkness. Ava could feel his gaze on her, though she didn't turn to look at him. He was watching her, calculating, no doubt already thinking about how to manipulate her next move.
He didn't say anything as he finally turned toward the window, staring out into the night. His silhouette was barely visible in the dim light, but Ava knew he was still there, still watching.
Ava, however, was done with the mind games for the night. She was drained, too tired to fight, too tired to care about his cryptic words or his strange obsession with her. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, letting the silence of the room settle over her like a heavy weight.
The game had begun.
And only one of them would win.
Or so they thought...