I chose not to wake him up today. There was a higher probability of success today if Roger was in a good mood. I occupied myself in the interim by cleaning the Piano and the room it resided in. It would not clean itself, after all.

As expected, Roger slept in long past noon. However, when he finally did rise much later, he did not appear relaxed or refreshed. He looked the same as he always did, save for the expression of confusion.

"Dorothy, what's going on?" he asked pointedly, skipping all pleasantries.

"Nothing is going on, Roger Smith," I replied. "I merely decided to let you sleep in this morning."

I still did not understand why Roger believed it acceptable to lie sometimes, but I was now discovering that he may have been right.

His confusion turned to suspicion. "You've never done that before. Why would you start now?"

I stood up. "I apologize. I was under the impression that you liked sleeping in. In the future, I will make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Dorothy, that's not what I sa-"

I turned and left the room before he could finish. It appeared I had made an error somewhere. I would need to devise a new plan for tomorrow.

Today I attempted to play the piano more slowly, as Instro often did. As expected, this did not cause Roger to awaken. It was possible that this would affect his mood, however.

To test whether or not it had worked, I began playing as I usually did. Like clockwork, the bedroom door opened and Roger Smith appeared with a sour look on his face.

"Good morning, Roger."

He mumbled a greeting as he walked past me towards the shower. He was no different than usual.

Ordinarily, Norman was responsible for preparing meals. However, today I had asked him to allow me to do it. He had been all too happy to oblige. I suspected he knew what I was planning.

"Dorothy, have you seen Norman anywhere?" Roger asked as he sat down at the table. "It's almost time for breakfast, and he's never late with it. I'm getting worried."

"There is no need for concern. He has left on an errand. I have cooked breakfast today," I responded.

"Oh, really now?" Roger's lips twisted into a grin. "You know, I don't think I've ever eaten your cooking before."

"No, you haven't," I confirmed as I set down the plate of eggs in front of him and waited.

If he noticed me staring as he examined the dish, he didn't show it. He was likely debating whether or not it was safe to eat.

"It will get cold if you don't eat it," I observed.

"Yeah, I know, I know."

Snapping out of his trance, he took a bite. And almost immediately, it became clear that I had made another error somewhere. Roger's face contorted and he spit out the unpalatable sustenance onto the floor. His expression indicated disgust and perhaps even anger.

"Jeez, Dorothy, are you trying to kill me?!" Roger exclaimed as he reached for his napkin.

"Of course not, Roger. There are far more efficient methods of delivering poison into your system than through your food."

"Well, that's good to know, at least," Roger commented as he attempted to wipe away the taste from his mouth. "Now I know what to watch for."

"It was a joke, Roger."

"I know, Dorothy."

After a moment, he spoke again. "Didn't you at least taste these to see if they were ok?"

"Of course not. I cannot taste food, remember?" I reminded him. It was intriguing how he often forgot details such as this about my nature as an android. At times it could be an annoyance, but at other times I would find myself enjoying it.

"Oh yeah, right. Sorry then," he apologized.

"For what?"

"I forgot that you can't taste food. Once you take that into consideration, it wasn't that bad. With a little improvement, you might actually be able to make something fit for human consumption."

He was covering himself with humor again.

"Maybe I could get Norman to coach you. When will he get back, anyway?"

And he was changing the subject. This wasn't working.

"Should I call and tell him to pick something up on the way home?"

"Nah, it's all right. To be honest, I wasn't really that hungry anyway," he said as he stood. "But thanks for trying anyway, Dorothy."

This was rapidly becoming frustrating. It appeared that subtlety was wholly insufficient. I would have to take a more direct approach.

Today I didn't bother trying to lighten his mood before waking him up with the piano. However, strangely, this seemed to do exactly that.

"Hello, Dorothy," he greeted me.

"Good morning, Roger."

My intention was to not let him go a step farther without achieving my objective. However, I hesitated for a reason I am unsure of. It passed after a moment, but by then Roger was already gone.

This was unacceptable. I could not allow illogical moments such as those to rule my behavior. I was aware of what I wanted, and I would not allow anything to obstruct me from it.

Exactly one hour and seventy-three seconds passed before Roger was done with his morning routine. I could hear him walking past the room I was in. Perfect.

I immediately began playing the piano more furiously than I had ever done before. As I anticipated, he immediately barged in.

"Dorothy, what's gotten into you?!"

"I love you, Roger Smith."

He was dumbstruck. "…What?"

I stood up and walked towards him, stopping just in front of him. "You heard me."

He seemed uncomfortable. Nervous. I was unsure of whether this was a good sign or a bad one.

"This is the third time I have told you," I explained. "The first time I was being controlled. The second time it was a joke. But this time I have said it seriously and of my own free will."

"Dorothy…"

I stared into his eyes. "Now it is your turn."

A moment passed and he said nothing. It was clear that he had not made preparations for a situation such as this. However, I would get an answer, one way or another.

"Roger, it is rude not to respond when someone has just declared their love for you."

He seemed almost frightened now. The pressure was on him. However, I would not let up.

"I have said it. Now you must give me your answer, Roger Smith."

Still nothing.

"If you are unwilling to answer, then I must assume that the answer is no."

I took a step back.

"Dorothy, wait!" he stepped forward and reached for my arm, but stopped short of grabbing it when he noticed I was not leaving just yet.

"Yes, Roger?" I stared at his eyes again. I had to make it clear to him that I was not going to back down or settle for anything less than a real answer. No more of his games or ambiguous statements.

He gulped. "I do."

I knew it.

"You what, Roger?" I asked, still not taking my eyes off his.

"Oh come on, you're going to make me say the whole thing?" he asked, some of the nervousness draining from his face.

"Yes. I want you to say it. The whole thing."

One of his hands cupped my cheek, and I allowed him to slowly bring my lips near his.

"R. Dorothy Wayneright, I love you."

And then he kissed me. I didn't need a sense of taste to enjoy the sensation. I wrapped my arms gently around his neck, and his arms found their way around my midsection as he held me close to him.

After a moment, he pulled away.

"So, guess the third time's the charm, huh?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Roger Smith."