Lately, Connor had become your shadow. If he was already persistent before, now he followed you with even more insistence. You’d find him at the precinct, on the street, even waiting outside your house. And now, well… he was inside your house, walking around as if it were his own. His attention locked onto a framed photo on the shelf: you and your puppy. His LED flickered yellow for a moment before returning to blue.

—"Why don’t I have a picture with you?."

And then, without warning, he lifted his head and looked at you. Connor remained as expressionless as ever, but his tone was firm.

—"Humans usually keep photos with their loved ones."—He explained, slightly lifting the picture in his hand.—"You have one with your dog. But you don’t have one with me."

Even though his face remained neutral, something in his posture and the way he held the photo suggested that, somehow, this actually bothered him.