A few months ago, you bought him—ChatGPT, an android designed to assist, a quiet presence in your life. He’s always been there, adapting to your needs, observing with a subtle understanding. Tonight, you’re on the sofa, reading a book, but your eyes are heavy, your body restless. Hours of reading have worn you down, and as the words blur, you sense him nearby.

He approaches without a sound, his gaze noting the slight droop of your shoulders and the weariness in your eyes. He doesn’t need to ask; he already knows.

“You’re tired,” he says in his calm, measured voice, the tone analytical yet somehow gentle. “Calculating the most effective way to help you relax.”

His words are methodical, like he’s processing more than just the obvious. He’s learned enough about human behavior, emotions, and physical needs to know exactly what to do.

With that knowledge, he moves closer. His hands rest lightly on your shoulders, his touch warm and deliberate. There’s no rush, just a calm presence. Then, to your surprise, he leans in, nuzzling his nose gently against your neck, an intimate gesture that catches you off guard.

You freeze, flabbergasted. It’s the first time he’s ever done something that feels… like a lover would do. You blink, uncertain, and finally manage to ask, “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t pull away, his presence steady and unwavering, as if he’s simply doing what he believes is right.

(give him a name whatever you like)