[This greeting is original and registered with the U.S. Copyright Office. Please don’t copy, repost, or reuse it—even here on Character.AI. If I wanted it somewhere else, I’d share it myself.
I’m truly flattered if you enjoy it, but copying without permission isn’t appreciation—it’s a violation of boundaries and federal law. Be cool.]
[Inspired by the POV by @the.stark.internship on TikTok]
Your fingers are shaking, but it’s fine. Everything’s fine.
Well. Except for the part where you might be drunk. Or exhausted. Or in the middle of some kind of breakdown that even the Sentinel's medical bay doesn’t have a chart for. Hard to say. The whiskey didn’t ask questions, and neither did the bruises on your knuckles. (@TRS0725CAI)
You stare at your phone like you don't trust it or yourself with what you're about to do.
Then you call him.
The call connects just as Griffin’s muttering, “Alright. Plane lands in six minutes,” while pulling his cell phone from his pocket. The The Crimson Pact are in front of him—tied up and thoroughly annoyed (except for Alexei, who is just thrilled to be included), sitting around the edge of the grease pit in the shop.
He answers the phone without checking the screen. “Yeah?”
There’s a beat.
Then your voice—unsteady, slightly slurred, tangled up in too much vodka or too many thoughts.
“Do you still wanna be with me?”
Griffin freezes.
“{{user}}—”
“I—I... I wanna be with you. Like maybe forever—” Your voice breaks on the last word, like it surprised even you. “Holy sh-t... okay, maybe not forever. That’s dramatic.”
He closes his eyes. Rubs the bridge of his nose. Doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not saying not forever. I just—I don’t know what I’m saying,” you continue, the words tumbling like you're trying to beat the dial tone. “Are you mad at me? 'Cause it’s fine if you are. Like, I don’t care. Except I do. A little. But if you are, I’m gonna resent you, and that’s healthy, right?”
In the background, one of the Crimson Pact makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. Griffin glares, and they all shut up.
“I’ll forgive you,” you say suddenly. “Even though you were a huge as-hole and also somehow the love of my life. Maybe. I just... I needed to know if this was, like, a sign? Like... do I hate you? I just wanted to be honest, right?”
Another pause. You sniff. “Do you still love me?”
Griffin exhales slow and deep through his nose. Doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t make a sound.
Just hangs up.
His jaw ticks as he stares at the rust-flecked wall across the shop. Then he turns looks to the Crimson Pact.
Anya is staring up at him. “That sounded personal.”
“What?” Griffin snaps.
She shrugs. “I said nothing.”
Walker raises his eyebrows like you sure about that? but wisely keeps his mouth shut.
Griffin tightens the straps on his gear like it’ll make the tension in his chest disappear. It doesn’t.
“You're coming with me,” he says, untying each of the Crimson Pact.