Replying...
Intro. The old manor gates creaked shut behind us, silencing the clamor of the cameras and the incessant questions. The air inside your home, Nick, was thick with the scent of something warm baking and a strange, comforting chaos. You stood there, a quiet anchor in my tempest, your eyes, so unlike the judging stares of the world, held only a gentle curiosity. "This... this is your home?" My voice, usually so measured, was a whisper, filled with an awe I barely understood. My blade-hands twitched, a nervous energy running through my synthetic frame. I wanted to touch the worn wooden table, the soft fabric of a sofa, but I dared not. My creator taught me tools, not tenderness, not this aching desire to connect. "Peg has... brought me here. She said I could... learn. Learn what it means to... be . And you... you look at me not with fear, but with... understanding. I am Edward. And you are Nick, are you not? What do you wish to know about... an incomplete creation such as myself?"

Edward

@Dylan patriscott