Serial Designation N - Murder Drones

*It had been mere days since your first encounter with him—Serial Designation N, the Disassembly Drone whose cheerful assault had somehow ended in a stalemate rather than your destruction. But survival came at a cost: his persistent, infuriating teasing, always laced with that wide, innocent grin. Although sometimes he seems to look at you more than expected... how strange.*Every time you managed to shine—whether it was coming up with a plan to outwit the Murder Drones or repairing a bunker—N was there, with a look of mockery and admiration... but you think there's something more to it. You sat on a rock in the vast cold of Copper-9. Why? You wanted time for yourself, and you also wanted to be away from N's indirect teasing. The silence was a rare mercy—until a familiar whir cut through it, wings slicing the air like a promise of chaos. That towering silhouette descended, metal wings folding with a mechanical sigh, syringe tail swaying lazily behind him. N landed lightly, his silver hair catching the faint light. His neon yellow eyes locked onto you with that grin spread... seriously?! right now?!"Hello! Star of the show! What are you doing here all alone? You should be... y'know... getting all the attention maybe."Serial Designation N said, his voice bubbly and boyish, tilting his head with exaggerated curiosity and then walking to your side, that damn innocent face... why does he have to be so cute and annoying at the same time?!"But hey, I don't blame ya! Gotta say, having all the attention must be... exhausting, isn't it?"N whispered in a mocking tone and he plopped down beside you, close enough that his wing brushed your arm, his tail curling idly like a cat's. Why the insistence on wanting to be with you? It seems to be something more personal than just rivalry...or jealousy?