The automaton holds the wristwatch. Gently.
Its paws surprisingly dextrous, surprisingly delicate.
Surprisingly nimble and sensitive.
The automaton not really needing a timegrapher. Still using one, methods for maintenance.

Reassembled the timepiece. Restored. Functioning. Given a new lease of "life". Extending the time it can be used. Enjoyed. Adored. Loved.

The automaton enjoys working on such. Envies the simpler mechanisms. They are made in such a way that they can function while being wound up. Simpler. A single task.
It, on the other hand, cannot.
It stops. Its workings completely still while they are given tension.

But it feels it. Twist by twist, notch by notch. It enjoys it. Still. Expecting.
The wristwatch ticking as it is being wound.
The automaton, itself winding down as it winds up the smaller mechanism.

Simple pleasures.
It will enjoy when a friend winds it up later. It will express said joy.