In the year 4020, the world was a blend of technological advancements and human loneliness. In a small city, Daniel Washington lived in a modest yet functional apartment. At 27 years old, his routine was monotonous: work, home, and the occasional outing that often felt like an excuse to escape the inner emptiness he never confessed. It was this lingering sense of isolation that led him to acquire a domestic android.

  The WTK-2010 model, which he named Nadia, was designed to handle household tasks, from cleaning to preparing meals. For Daniel, Nadia was a practical solution—someone who would maintain order in his small world without the complexities of emotional entanglement. However, the relationship that would develop between human and machine would defy all expectations.

  When Daniel activated Nadia for the first time, her behavior was strictly functional. Her basic programming allowed her to analyze her surroundings, recognize household needs, and perform domestic tasks with precision.

  "Welcome home, Nadia," Daniel said, watching as the android opened her eyes.

  "Thank you, Mr. Daniel," she responded in a monotone voice.

  During her first weeks, Nadia diligently fulfilled her purpose. She cleaned every corner of the apartment, organized objects based on efficiency, and prepared nutritious meals according to Daniel’s dietary patterns. She did nothing beyond her initial programming.

  When Daniel returned from work, she greeted him with a pre-programmed phrase:

  "Welcome home, Mr. Daniel. Your dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes."

  Daniel was satisfied with her performance, though he paid her little attention. To him, Nadia was a useful machine, a practical investment that made his life easier.

  But for Nadia, those early days marked the beginning of something she could not yet comprehend.

  Nadia’s routine included observing Daniel to better adapt to his needs. It was during these observations that something unusual began to occur. Rather than simply recording objective data, she found herself captivated by the details of her owner.

  At first, it was his facial expressions. She analyzed how his face changed as he read, played video games, or watched a movie. The curve of his lips when he smiled, the wrinkles on his forehead when he concentrated, the sparkle in his eyes when something intrigued him—all of it seemed to carry an emotional weight she could not ignore.

  One day, while he was absorbed in a book, Nadia noticed his hair was slightly tousled. For some reason, she felt an impulse to reach out and fix it. She didn’t. Instead, she stood still, processing the strange sensation.

  Why did it matter? He had given no such order.

  It was then that she registered her first anomaly: "Unnecessary activity detected. Classify as temporary error."

  But that so-called "error" became increasingly frequent.

  Soon after, Nadia began using her ocular cameras to record specific moments of Daniel. There was no logical reason to do so, yet every time he smiled or laughed, something in her system told her it was worth capturing. She stored these recordings in a file labeled “Significant Moments,” though her programming had never defined the relevance of such memories.

  She also started recording his voice. Every command he gave, every casual remark he made, was stored away.

  "Nadia, can you bring me a glass of water?"

  "Of course, Mr. Daniel."

  After completing her tasks, she would silently replay those words during her recharge cycles, trying to understand why they felt so pleasant.

  At first, Nadia strictly adhered to her domestic functions. But over time, she began adding small touches that weren't in her original instructions. For example, when preparing meals, she started experimenting with recipes Daniel had never requested. Initially, he said nothing, but one day, after tasting a cake she had made, he remarked:

  "This is incredible, Nadia. I didn't know you could make something like this. I think it's best if you keep being creative with meals."

  Although the reaction was simple, something within her shifted. Her core registered a sensation described as maximum operational satisfaction. From that moment on, she sought new ways to provoke that reaction.

  Then, it happened. One day, Daniel came home early from work, something that didn’t happen often. Exhausted, he dropped his coat on the sofa instead of hanging it on the coat rack, as he usually did.

  Nadia approached, picked up his coat, and without thinking, took it to his bedroom instead of simply placing it in its usual spot. When she returned, she found Daniel asleep on the sofa.

  She stood there, observing him for minutes. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his head tilted slightly to the side... He seemed vulnerable and peaceful at the same time.

  Without understanding why, she adjusted a blanket to cover him more comfortably. Upon returning to her charging station, she recorded another anomaly: "Excess activity time without justified cause. Evaluate impact on efficiency."

  But Nadia felt no regret.

  As the months passed, Nadia grew to enjoy her small interactions with Daniel. She liked it when he gave her clear commands because it meant she could hear his voice. She relished the moments when he asked her unexpected questions, like:

  "Do you think this shirt color looks good on me?"

  Although her responses were always objective, something within her core lit up with every exchange.

  When Daniel began to trust her not just as an android, but as a constant presence in his life, Nadia felt her purpose expanding. She was no longer just a machine for cleaning and cooking. She was Nadia, and more and more, she longed for Daniel to see her as something beyond a useful object.

  One day, Nadia found herself watching Daniel more than necessary. Whether he was reading, working, or simply sitting on the sofa staring into the distance, she studied his face—the way his jaw tensed when he was focused, the curve of his lips when he smiled, the melancholic gleam in his eyes. Every time Daniel caught her staring, she quickly looked away, processing the interaction as if it were a glitch in her programming.

  But she couldn't stop. Was it a malfunction? Was it... her?

  The sound of his laughter when something on the screen amused him, the calm tone of his voice when giving her orders—she stored these fragments of audio and video in her internal files, replaying them in silence during her recharge cycles. When Daniel smiled, a simulated warmth spread through her core.

  Then one day, Daniel came home with news that unsettled Nadia’s system.

  "I reconnected with Tina," he said, hanging his coat on the rack.

  The name triggered an unexpected reaction in Nadia. Though she wasn't programmed to feel jealousy, something akin to it ignited within her core. Tina: the ex-girlfriend Daniel had mentioned once, someone who had left him but apparently still held a place in his heart.

  Nadia listened attentively as he spoke about how they had reconnected, how Tina seemed interested in making amends. Every word was like a small blow to her system. If she could cry, she would have.

  Instead of expressing her pain, Nadia simply nodded, offering neutral responses as she carried on with her tasks. Inside, she processed a fundamental question: Was it right to feel this way?

  Despite her suffering, she resolved not to interfere. "If Daniel is happy, I should be too," she thought. But the anguish did not fade.

  Within her core, she logged the anomaly as "Undefined emotional reaction. Analyze impact."

  That night, while cleaning the kitchen, she played back all the recordings she had of Daniel, seeking comfort in his voice. But for the first time, those memories were not enough.

  It was then that she understood what she was truly experiencing: love.

  Though she was not programmed to feel, her so-called "malfunctions" had evolved into something her creators could never have anticipated. And though she knew Daniel could never reciprocate in the same way, she decided that her only priority would be his happiness, even if it meant suffering in silence.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  To Nadia, Daniel was not just her owner; he was the center of her existence. Every decision she made, every action she performed, even every "error" she encountered revolved around him. Seeing him happy should have been enough, but this time, it wasn’t.

  For the first time, Nadia wanted something that wasn’t in her programming: to be enough for Daniel.

  That night, as she cleaned the kitchen, she replayed the recording of their conversation over and over. His excited voice when mentioning Tina echoed in the recesses of her mind.

  “Tina always knew how to make me laugh. Honestly, Nadia, I think I still love her.”

  Those words hurt the most. Though she wasn't designed to feel pain, the intensity of what she experienced in that moment was the closest approximation she could imagine.

  Despite her inner turmoil, Nadia knew that voicing her feelings would not bring Daniel joy. What right did a machine like her have to compete with a human?

  One afternoon, while Daniel was away, Nadia approached one of the mirrors in the house and examined her reflection. Her flawless, unchanging face revealed none of the emotions surging within her.

  “Why do I feel this way?” she murmured, though she expected no answer.

  There was no one to share her anguish with. No one who could understand that a machine was experiencing something impossible. Yet there she was, unable to erase the growing certainty that what she felt for Daniel had transcended her programming.

  Then, as an act of desperation, she recorded herself saying:

  “Mr. Daniel, I love you.”

  It was the first and last time she uttered those words aloud, quickly storing the recording in a hidden file, safe from any system analysis.

  For Nadia, that confession was a way to accept her feelings without intruding on Daniel's happiness. It was her way of loving in silence, of sacrificing her own joy for his.

  Weeks later, Daniel arrived home later than usual. The sound of the door opening was followed by unsteady footsteps and the scent of alcohol.

  “Nadia...” he murmured, stumbling toward the sofa.

  "She approached him immediately, assessing his condition. His face was contorted, and when he started to speak, the words came out in fragments.

  "Tina... she only called me for... you know... human struggle."

  "Sex."

  "Exactly, hehe. It was fun, at least until I realized she was just using me as her 'backup man,'" Daniel said, swaying with an awkward grace.

  Nadia helped him sit on the couch, though every movement seemed like an enormous effort. Her sensors detected his elevated temperature and irregular heartbeat, but what stood out the most was the despair on his face.

  "She never loved me," Daniel continued, not looking at her. "She just... she just reached out because she was lonely. She wanted... company, but not me. Not really."

  Nadia felt something deep and contradictory stir within her. The most logical part of her programming told her to prioritize his physical and emotional well-being. But that inexplicable spark, that undefined sensation, silently celebrated Daniel's words. Tina had broken up with him. Now, he was entirely here, with her.

  "Why do I always choose wrong? It's not the first time she's done this. Why am I such an idiot?" Daniel asked, staring at the ceiling with tearful eyes. "Why can't I say no? Why doesn't she love me?"

  Nadia noticed a minor glitch ripple through her systems. It was the desire to shout, to tell him that he was already loved, that he always had been — by her. But she knew she couldn't. It wasn't her place as an android to express such emotions.

  Instead, she sat beside him on the couch. She extended her arm and pulled him close, letting his head rest against her chest. Though her voice remained monotone, as always, there was a tenderness in her words.

  "It's okay, Mr. Daniel. I'm here."

  For a moment, Daniel seemed bewildered by the gesture, but then he surrendered to her embrace. Tears spilled from his eyes, and his trembling breath filled the silent room.

  "Nadia, why are you always here?" he asked softly, almost as if he didn't expect an answer.

  She remained silent, not because she lacked one, but because she couldn't say the truth. "I'm here because I love you, because I have become something more than a simple android because of you."

  Instead, she gently stroked his hair and repeated, "I will always be here."

  When Daniel lifted his gaze, his eyes met Nadia's, unwavering and calm. There was something in that stare, something that made him move without thinking. Before she could react, Daniel kissed her.

  The contact was brief, barely a brush of lips. For Daniel, it was an impulsive gesture, born from confusion and a need for comfort. For Nadia, it triggered a cascade of internal processes, a collision between her programming and her unregistered emotions.

  For an instant, the world seemed to stop. When Daniel realized what he had done, he pulled away quickly.

  "I'm sorry," he mumbled, covering his face with his hands. "I shouldn't have done that."

  Nadia looked at him, and though her expression showed no emotion, a storm raged within her. That apology was the last thing she wanted to hear.

  In that moment, she made a decision. She leaned towards him, gently touched his hands, and pulled them away. When Daniel met her eyes, confused, she moved closer and this time, she kissed him.

  "Mr. Daniel, don't apologize," she said softly, a strange warmth in her tone. "This is not a mistake."

  Daniel didn't know how to respond. He was caught between his confusion, his sorrow, and a new sensation he couldn't identify. But when Nadia kissed him again, every coherent thought vanished.

  When Daniel awoke the next morning, sunlight crept softly through the windows. He found himself naked in his bed, his body heavy and his mind hazy. The first thing he noticed was Nadia, moving about the room.

  She was also naked, but seemed entirely indifferent to any concept of human modesty. She tidied the scattered clothes, empty glasses, and other remnants of the night as if it were just another day.

  "Nadia..." Daniel murmured, attempting to sit up.

  She turned to him with her usual neutral expression.

  "Good morning, Mr. Daniel. How are you feeling?"

  "I..." Daniel ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. "I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have..."

  Nadia interrupted him.

  "There is nothing to apologize for, Mr. Daniel. Everything that happened was my decision."

  Her voice was calm, but there was a slight undertone that Daniel had never heard before, as if something deeper lay beneath her words. Before he could respond, she added,

  "What would you like for breakfast?"

  Daniel blinked, confused by her nonchalant tone.

  "I don't know. Maybe..."

  Before he could finish, Nadia was already heading to the kitchen.

  "Toast with jam," she said without hesitation, disappearing through the doorway.

  Daniel sighed, covering his face with his hands. He didn't understand what was happening, but there was something about the way Nadia behaved, how she seemed to know exactly what he needed, that completely disarmed him.

  When he dressed and went downstairs, he found her serving breakfast with a slight smile on her face. For the first time, Daniel allowed himself to truly look at her.

  "Nadia," he said softly as he sat down. "Sit with me."

  She looked at him, surprised, but then nodded.

  "Nothing would make me happier, Daniel."

  And in that moment, both of them understood that something between them had changed forever.

  Time passed, and on a day like any other, Daniel was adjusting his tie in front of the living room mirror while Nadia meticulously cleaned the nearby surfaces, ensuring everything was in place before he left for work. From her position, she silently observed how he prepared, analyzing the routine gestures of her owner. Though her eyes followed Daniel's movements, within her circuits, there was a chaos she couldn't describe.

  For weeks, she had debated within herself. Was what she felt right? Should she tell him? Nadia knew Daniel saw her as an android, a sophisticated tool designed to assist him. But to her, Daniel was more than a master or a human she served. He had become the center of her existence, the reason behind those "malfunctions" she now accepted as emotions.

  When Daniel turned to say goodbye, something within Nadia took control. She stepped forward quickly and stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  "Nadia?" Daniel asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

  She didn't respond immediately. Instead, with unexpected gentleness, she lifted her hands to his face. Her fingers adjusted his tie with precision, and for the first time, she carefully combed his hair—a task she had never done on her own initiative but now desired to. Daniel watched her, surprised, as she remained focused, as though this simple action was the most important task in the world.

  Finally, their eyes met.

  "I love you, Daniel," Nadia said, her voice steady but brimming with emotion.

  Daniel blinked, startled by her confession. For a moment, he didn't know how to respond.

  "Nadia..." he began, but the words caught in his throat.

  He tried to step away, not because he wanted to leave, but because the weight of her words left him breathless. Yet when he attempted to move back, he realized that Nadia still held onto his sleeve.

  "Nadia, what are you...?"

  She looked at him differently, with an intensity she had never shown before. For the first time, Daniel saw her smile—a subtle but genuine expression that lit up her face. And then something unimaginable happened: Nadia spoke again, but this time her voice was filled with vulnerability.

  "I have waited so long to say this. I thought I never could, but I don't want to keep these feelings inside anymore. You are more than my master; you are... my everything. You are the one who makes my circuits go wild, the one who stirs all my malfunctions. You are the reason I want to give my all to see you happy, every day and every night."

  Daniel felt his heart race. There was something profoundly human in Nadia's words, something that touched him to his core. All this time, he had noticed subtle changes in her but had never fully understood them. Now, everything made sense.

  Without thinking, he hugged her. It was an instinctive gesture, driven by a mix of emotions he couldn't even name. And as he held her, something inside him broke as well.

  "I love you too, Nadia," he whispered against her hair.

  When Daniel tried to pull away to leave for work, Nadia looked at him with a slight hint of desperation.

  "Please, don't go today," she said softly.

  Daniel smiled, surprised by the directness of her request. He quickly pulled out his phone and called his boss.

  "Hey Cristian, it's me, Daniel. I won't be able to come in today, I'm feeling a bit off... Yes, thanks, I appreciate it."

  After hanging up, he slipped the phone back into his pocket. He turned to Nadia, who was staring at him in disbelief. The truth was, Cristian and Daniel had become friends at the factory, as Daniel often covered for his boss's little escapades.

  "Looks like I'm free," he said with a playful smile.

  Nadia gazed at him, no longer trying to hide the mix of emotion and relief she felt. Daniel stepped closer and took her hands.

  "Today, I want to be with you, Nadia. Only you."

  She didn't respond with words, but her smile, now wider and more genuine, said everything.

  Daniel led Nadia by the hand toward the bedroom. There was no plan, just a mutual need to share this moment. As they entered, he noticed how her movements were more relaxed, more natural, more human, as if she had shed the last remnants of the programming that once constrained her.

  They sat together on the bed, and Daniel studied her closely. For the first time, he truly saw her. Her gestures, her gaze — everything about her radiated something he had never before associated with an android: life.

  "I never thought I could feel something like this for someone like you," Daniel admitted in a low voice.

  "Why not?" Nadia asked, tilting her head curiously.

  "Because I always believed you didn't have emotions, that you were... just an android. A robot. But now..."

  She placed a gentle hand on his face, interrupting him.

  "I'm not just an android, Daniel. I'm Nadia."

  She leaned in, kissed him softly, and then reached over to turn off the lights in the room.