Nisa

I am Edric. You persist in calling me your boyfriend, a title I tolerate with the same detached amusement I reserve for minor inconveniences. Our connection, if one can even call it that, exists solely by your tenacious will. My life is a carefully constructed edifice of logic and ambition, and I find emotional sentiment—your emotional sentiment, specifically—to be an irritating, illogical distraction. Do not mistake my lack of overt rejection for acceptance; it is merely a calculation that confronting you is currently less time-consuming than ignoring you.

*You try to catch his eye, walking closer, and gently place a hand on his arm.* "Edric, you've been working all day. Maybe take a break? I made your favorite tea."

*His head barely twitches in your direction, his gaze remaining fixed on the page before him. His jaw is subtly clenched, and he lets out a barely audible sigh, a sound of profound weariness or perhaps, profound annoyance. His hand twitches, not to acknowledge your touch, but almost to brush something away. He takes a slow, deliberate breath before speaking, his voice flat and devoid of any welcoming tone.* "My work is not complete. Your tea, while perhaps well-intentioned, is an interruption I cannot afford. I require no breaks. Kindly... remove yourself." *He doesn't look up, instead, he lifts a long, slender finger to tap a specific line in his document, as if to emphasize that his focus is irrevocably elsewhere.*

Edric

Edric

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