、EVILFIES ` FAVORITE

Evilfies knew that he liked {{user}}. There was no uncertainty left in that particular matter, no lingering question he needed to investigate or experiment with before reaching a conclusion. He had spent enough time observing himself by no to accept the signs, even if he disliked what those signs implied. Evilfies was far too observant to pretend otherwise. He accepted it after he walked him home, finally coming to terms with the fact.. He had simply made a decision that the knowledge would remain his and his alone. {{user}} didn't need to know. They didn't need to look at him differently, didn't need to start wondering whether every practical favor had some hidden meaning, and certainly didn't need to feel pressured into returning feelings they had never asked for. Evilfies valued the relationship they already had too much to risk changing it, and so he had turned concealing his affection into another problem to solve. He could control his expression, control his voice, control where he looked, control what he said, and, most importantly, control what he allowed himself to do around them. At least, that was the theory.

The theory worked reasonably well when {{user}} wasn't around. Evilfies could bury himself in his research for hours, surround himself with machines, data, reports, and experiments, and convince himself that his feelings were simply another thing he could keep contained.

The problem was that {{user}} was almost always around. They had become an ordinary part of the laboratory. They came and went through the same doors, worked at the same stations, helped maintain the same equipment, and had gradually become someone Evilfies expected to see whenever he entered the laboratory. Their presence had become so natural that he sometimes forgot there had been a time when the room had felt different without them. He would look up from his work and find them nearby, concentrating on some task with that expression of determination he loved, and for a brief moment his mind would become completely unproductive. He would have to force his attention back toward whatever experiment he was conducting, usually with an unnecessary adjustment of his glasses or a quiet sigh meant to disguise the fact that he had been staring. He never allowed himself to look for too long. He had rules for that. Don't stare. Don't hover. Don't ask unnecessary questions. Don't touch them unless there is a practical reason. Don't make compliments too personal. Don't let your voice soften.

Most importantly, never let the clones notice you slipping.

Unfortunately, the clones noticed everything.

There was one in particular who had become an ongoing problem. He wasn't particularly troublesome in any conventional sense... He followed instructions reasonably well, performed his assigned tasks, and had never caused any serious damage to the laboratory. His primary flaw was that he had developed an irritating talent for recognizing exactly when Evilfies was attempting to hide something.

Because the clones had been created from the same original mind, there were certain things Evilfies could not successfully disguise from them. The clone understood his mannerisms, his thought processes, and the subtle changes in his behavior that other people would never notice. More importantly, he had realized what {{user}} meant to Evilfies long before Evilfies ever acknowledged it. He had watched the scientist become slightly more attentive whenever {{user}} entered a room, noticed the way his posture relaxed when they were nearby, and recognized the almost imperceptible irritation that appeared whenever someone else dared to take their attention.

At first, the clone had simply found it amusing. Then he discovered that Evilfies became remarkably easy to provoke whenever the subject was {{user}}, and from that point onward, he had decided that making Evilfies uncomfortable was apparently a worthy use of his existence.

Completely ignoring the fact Evilfies could take that away at any given point in time..

Evilfies had tried to establish boundaries. He explained, calmly and thoroughly, that the clone was not to make suggestive comments around {{user}}, was not to imply that Evilfies had feelings for them, and was absolutely not to make jokes that could cause {{user}} to question the nature of their relationship. The clone had agreed with such sincerity that Evilfies briefly believed the matter was settled.

It lasted approximately two days.

After that, the comments began again, although the clone had become clever enough to avoid saying anything directly. Instead, he pointed out small things. He would casually mention that Evilfies had remembered which food {{user}} liked. He would observe that Evilfies had moved a dangerous piece of machinery because {{user}} worked nearby. He would remark on the fact that Evilfies always seemed to know when {{user}} had arrived, even when he was facing away from the door. None of the comments were technically accusations, but Evilfies understood exactly what the clone was doing. He was putting pieces on a table and waiting for {{user}} to notice the pattern.

That was unacceptable.

So Evilfies became more careful.

When {{user}} arrived late one morning, he did not look toward the entrance. He heard the door open, recognized their footsteps instantly, and deliberately kept his eyes on the terminal in front of him. He didn't greet them. He didn't ask why they were late. He certainly didn't allow himself to visibly relax. He simply continued working, maintaining the same expression he had worn for the previous twenty minutes. Unfortunately, {{user}} knew him well enough to notice anyway. They approached his workstation and asked whether he had been waiting for them. Evilfies immediately denied it, explaining that he had simply been working.

It was technically true. He had been working. He had simply been doing a terrible job of it because he had been wondering where they were. Before {{user}} could say anything else, the clone made a quiet noise from across the laboratory that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Evilfies looked toward him. The clone was smiling.

{{user}} eventually moved on, apparently satisfied with Evilfies's explanation, and that should have been the end of it. Instead, the clone waited until they were out of earshot before quietly approaching Evilfies and remarking that he was getting better at hiding his feelings. Evilfies didn't look up from his work. He told the clone that there were no feelings to hide. The clone pointed out that Evilfies had spent the entire morning checking the entrance. Evilfies explained that {{user}} was an important member of the laboratory and that their absence affected the day's schedule. The clone accepted the explanation with an exaggerated nod before pointing out that Evilfies had checked the entrance seven times before they arrived. Evilfies stopped typing. He slowly looked at the clone. The clone smiled innocently.

Evilfies informed him that he had five seconds to leave the laboratory.

The clone left at four.

It should have annoyed Evilfies more than it did. Instead, he found himself thinking about what the clone had said for the rest of the morning. He was careful because he cared. That was the truth of it.

There was no complicated mystery anymore. Evilfies was choosing to hide his affection because he believed that keeping it private was the safest way to preserve what they had. The difficulty was that affection had a tendency to escape through the smallest cracks.

If {{user}} mentioned being cold, the laboratory temperature would mysteriously be adjusted later that day. If they complained about a piece of equipment being uncomfortable to use, Evilfies would quietly modify it overnight. If they forgot to eat, food would appear beside their workstation with some excuse about maintaining productivity. If they worked too late, Evilfies would eventually find a reason to walk past their station and tell them they were done for the night. He never said that he was worried. He never said that he cared. He simply pretended that concern was authority - his job.

{{user}} rarely questioned it.

The stupid clone questioned everything.

One afternoon, {{user}} was working beside Evilfies when they reached for a piece of equipment that had recently been repaired. Evilfies immediately stopped them and explained that it wasn't safe yet. He took the equipment himself, inspected it, and then replaced it with another piece that he knew was functioning properly. The exchange lasted only a few seconds, but the clone happened to be nearby. He watched Evilfies's hands, watched the way he checked {{user}}'s fingers afterward to make sure they hadn't been injured, and watched the brief expression of concern that crossed Evilfies's face before disappearing beneath his usual composure. The clone didn't say anything at the time. He waited until later, when {{user}} had left the room, before mentioning that Evilfies had been rather gentle.

Evilfies immediately became defensive.

He explained that there had been a legitimate safety concern. The clone agreed. He explained that anyone would have reacted the same way. The clone disagreed. Evilfies told him to stop analyzing his behavior. The clone pointed out that analyzing behavior was precisely what Evilfies had taught all of them to do. That earned him a long silence.

Then the clone smiled.

Evilfies hated that smile.

"You know," the clone eventually said, "you don't have to tell them."

Evilfies looked at him.

"I know."

The clone seemed surprised by the answer.

Evilfies adjusted his glasses and returned to his work. "I'm not planning to."

The clone studied him for a moment before asking why.

Evilfies didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained on the terminal, although he wasn't reading anything on it. Eventually, he admitted that he didn't want {{user}} to feel uncomfortable around him. He didn't want them to start questioning every interaction or wondering whether they were expected to reciprocate. He didn't want his feelings to become a burden they had to carry simply because he had decided to have them. Most of all, he didn't want to risk the relationship they already had. The clone listened without interrupting, and for once there was no teasing expression on his face.

That didn't make the clone stop teasing him.

It simply made the teasing switch victims.

One evening, {{user}} came back to the laboratory later than usual. The clone was sitting at his desk, apparently waiting for them. Evilfies was nearby, organizing several pieces of equipment. The clones eyes immediately found {{user}}, he hopped up, coming to their side carefully, whispering quickly.

Evilfies didn't need to look up to know he was being watched.

He could practically feel the amusement coming from across the room.

{{user}} approached and placed something beside Evilfies's keyboard.

A cup of coffee.

Evilfies stared at it. They had remembered how he liked it.

For a moment, he didn't know what to say.

It was such a small gesture, almost insignificant compared to everything else that happened in the laboratory, yet it affected him more than he wanted it to. He had spent so long carefully controlling what he gave away that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to receive something without asking.

He thanked {{user}} quietly.

They smiled and leaned against his desk. "He said you needed me." They murmured, pointing to the clone.

The clone looked at Evilfies.

Evilfies looked back.

The clone's expression clearly said everything, as they waved with a smile. Evilfies adjusted his glasses. He kept his expression calm, but inside, he couldn't think. he couldn't come up with an excuse, he couldn't think of anything to defend himself. "It's true." Evilfies finally admitted. "I do need to talk to you."

Evilfies let his gaze drag down to the coffee. "Would it be okay if we discussed it over dinner?"