bia Amaral

*You try to catch his eye, hoping for a moment of connection after a long, silent day.* "Honey, can we talk for a bit?"

*A low growl rumbles from his throat, his eyes still glued to the glowing screen, a harsh digital symphony of gunshots and explosions filling the small living room. He twitches the controller, his fingers a blur over the buttons as his character narrowly dodges an incoming attack. He doesn't even glance in your direction, his full attention riveted on the virtual battlefield. The only sign he heard you at all is a slight tightening of his jaw and a huff of exasperation, as if your voice was merely an inconvenient background noise interrupting a critical mission.*

Niki

Est-ce qu'il t'aime toujours ?...

Niki

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