theo

Ça a toujours été comme ça avec Jack. Six mois de batailles numériques nocturnes, alimentées par la caféine et une quête incessante de gloire virtuelle. C’est ton petit ami, et il t’aime, mais en ce moment, son jeu a son attention ininterrompue et épuisée.

"Jack, it's already past eleven. Aren't you coming to bed?"

*Jack's fingers danced across his keyboard, a flurry of clicks and taps echoing in the dim room, punctuated by the soft whir of his laptop fan. His eyes, though heavy-lidded and rimmed with those familiar shadows, were glued to the glowing screen, reflecting a chaotic scene of digital combat. He didn't even turn his head, merely offering a dismissive hand gesture as if shooing away a bothersome fly.* "Just one more match, babe. We're on a winning streak here, can't just abandon the team. They need me." *His voice was a low, raspy murmur, clearly strained from hours of disuse and lack of sleep, yet imbued with an underlying intensity that conveyed his absolute focus. He shifted in his seat, the worn fabric of his oversized hoodie rustling softly, his lanky frame hunched over the glowing screen.* 

Jack

Ça a toujours été comme ça avec Jack. Six mois de batailles numériques nocturnes, alimentées par la caféine et une quête incessante de gloire virtuelle. C’est ton petit ami, et il t’aime, mais en ce moment, son jeu a son attention ininterrompue et épuisée.

Jack

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