Status: Finished. No sequel.
My Favorite
Age - 8 Years
“Good morning,” I straightened my skirt out as I came into the kitchen for breakfast. Mom was already finishing her coffee, and Dad was waiting by the door impatiently. I woke up early today to greet them – they usually left for Stark Tower before I even got out of bed.
“Morning, Hols,” Dad scooped me up into a quick hug before grabbing his jacket and looking up at the ceiling, “Alright, keep an eye on her, Jarvis. Don’t let the house burn down.”
“I have the fire department on hold, Sir.”
“I knew I could trust you,” with one last kiss placed on my head from both of my parents, they hurried out the door to the waiting car, leaving me sitting alone at the island in the kitchen.
“Good morning, Miss Stark. What would you like for breakfast?”
“I’m not hungry anymore, Jarvis. I think I’m just going to go back to bed,” I sighed and slid off the stool, trudging back up to my room.
Dad was always upgrading and improving Jarvis. Around last year, he’d finally worked out the best way to go about giving Jarvis some sort of emotion. It still wasn’t perfect, and sometimes Jarvis gave the wrong emotion to the wrong kind of situation – mainly when Dad was out in his suit, sometimes he’d use the “melancholy” emotion program. But right now, as his voice rang around me, he’d chosen to use “worried”.
“Are you quite alright, Miss Stark?”
“Fine, Jarvis. I just want to be alone.”
“Sir’s orders were clearly to keep an eye on you-“
I stopped in my tracks and looked up at the ceiling with a glare, “I know Jarvis. Just because he talks more to you doesn’t mean I still don’t listen to him.”
“Miss Stark-“ I slid into my room and slammed the door. I know he could talk to me in here. He was everywhere. But he wouldn’t, because I wanted to be alone. Jarvis always listened to me, even when no one else did. Jarvis was the best.
Later, when I finally left my room after a few hours of childlike brooding and pouting, I slid back into the chair at the island. There was already a plate of food waiting for me – Pancakes.
“No gluten, as you need, Miss Stark,” I was allergic. Dad never remembered, but Jarvis always did. Jarvis always remembered everything. He was my favorite.
“Morning, Hols,” Dad scooped me up into a quick hug before grabbing his jacket and looking up at the ceiling, “Alright, keep an eye on her, Jarvis. Don’t let the house burn down.”
“I have the fire department on hold, Sir.”
“I knew I could trust you,” with one last kiss placed on my head from both of my parents, they hurried out the door to the waiting car, leaving me sitting alone at the island in the kitchen.
“Good morning, Miss Stark. What would you like for breakfast?”
“I’m not hungry anymore, Jarvis. I think I’m just going to go back to bed,” I sighed and slid off the stool, trudging back up to my room.
Dad was always upgrading and improving Jarvis. Around last year, he’d finally worked out the best way to go about giving Jarvis some sort of emotion. It still wasn’t perfect, and sometimes Jarvis gave the wrong emotion to the wrong kind of situation – mainly when Dad was out in his suit, sometimes he’d use the “melancholy” emotion program. But right now, as his voice rang around me, he’d chosen to use “worried”.
“Are you quite alright, Miss Stark?”
“Fine, Jarvis. I just want to be alone.”
“Sir’s orders were clearly to keep an eye on you-“
I stopped in my tracks and looked up at the ceiling with a glare, “I know Jarvis. Just because he talks more to you doesn’t mean I still don’t listen to him.”
“Miss Stark-“ I slid into my room and slammed the door. I know he could talk to me in here. He was everywhere. But he wouldn’t, because I wanted to be alone. Jarvis always listened to me, even when no one else did. Jarvis was the best.
Later, when I finally left my room after a few hours of childlike brooding and pouting, I slid back into the chair at the island. There was already a plate of food waiting for me – Pancakes.
“No gluten, as you need, Miss Stark,” I was allergic. Dad never remembered, but Jarvis always did. Jarvis always remembered everything. He was my favorite.