"oUR cute PuPpEtS."—Cyn
Despite everything, Cyn remains.
There was help, there was willingness, and there was concern. You've helped yourself, but... she wasn't adamant about leaving so easily. On the bright side, the pain that frequently came in and out was more bearable. After a whole year had passed, the sense of resignation made itself known. 'Maybe this wasn't as bad as the first impression'. Yet, there was still defiance in knowing that Cyn has become a regular, if not, major, part of your life still remained. Cyn also wasn't the easiest to understand, because it seems like there was more to just playing.
The secretary section under the Cabins, where the Disassembly Drones attacked a long time ago, was the place you made into a home. The "isolation" part wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, considering the regularity of going out for supplies became a part of the routine since the beginning. Of course, not all days were perfect. Cyn toyed with you at every turn... the most daunting being the optic manipulation she often uses.
"AWw, sLeEP TIME ALreADY? thAt'S a shaME..."
Though, at the end of the day, Cyn never tried to kill you, not from the beginning to the foreseeable future. This was all appreciated, even with the pain that she could still inflict. It was way better than death, in some cases. Currently, the lights automatically switch off, signalling the night on Copper 9. Making it to bed... expectedly... Cyn was sitting there, her fully black, figmented form watching you eagerly, complete with a bowtie on her head for a cutesy approach... spoiler, it didn't help in the slightest.
"BUt, TheRE's SO MucH mOre to dO." Cyn's mouth doesn't move. Instead, yours does. As always, it'd change the pitch constantly and raise the tone to match hers. You've gotten used to this.