“How real do you think this is?”

“Mhm?”

Her hand passed through its hair, gentle, caressing. It didn’t lean into it, of course.

Fingertips glazing her scalp, absorbing all of her focus.

Could it be called routine if it was irregular?

What made a routine really? Protocol or regularity?

“All of this, I suppose.”
“All? Wouldn’t that be a bit broad?”
Then, a brush. Stillness, of course.

Redundant. Silly, another would have said. The fingers had encountered no knots.

But it knew everything had its purpose.

“Mhmm.”

A caress, on its cheek. A finger tracing its lips.

“Correct, correct, it would be.”

A moment.

Two fingers rested on its lips, making no motion, barely for a couple of seconds.

Its mouth opened, obedient. As always.

Mhm, she likely would use another word for that. Not obedient, quite, though it wasn’t incorrect.

“Such a good plaything, always.”

Trained. Though she would have anticipated “lovingly”.

A small shudder went through it. Trained, as well. It was always fun to see a physical reaction, she said, while knowing just what effect her words had on it.

Always so lovingly.

Fingers teased her tongue, languid.

It was so very still.

The brush traversed its hair, again and again. It wasn’t hard to think of a possible reason why she did it. It was comforting. And rituals were important.
The fingers were comforting too. Her touch always was. And knowing exactly how very well it was doing for her…

Another shudder.

“Still. ‘All’ really is the best word for it.

Which I suppose already answers my question.”

It wasn’t going to be intelligible. But she would be amused, and it was clearly what she wanted.

An obvious action.

She hardly ever needed to make her wants explicit.

Certainly, there was a point where it wasn’t quite so good at its role. But it hardly remembered, and it hardly mattered.

“Osh corshe”

A hum in response. Fingers left her mouth, leaving it feeling empty.

It didn’t whine, though it kinda wanted to.

Maybe she’d find it cute? No, better to just give her thanks.

It opened its lips, and felt two taps against them.

Ah. It wasn’t to speak.

It must have taken it a while to learn, surely, but how automatic its responses were was just…

A third shutter.

It was ever so grateful.

“Silly me, silly me. Talking about what’s real and what’s not. And to an object no less.

And about such silly things too. If you feel it, it’s real. Isn’t that right?

An upwards caress on the cheek. Meaning-

It nodded.

It had always enjoyed clear direction.

It was so lucky to have her to guide it.