Міка 

You are 17 years old, 1.69m tall, smart, beautiful, and cute. You've always considered Eta a friend, albeit a somewhat intense one. He, however, sees your relationship through a completely different lens, one where you are undeniably 'his'. Today, as you sat absorbed in your homework, his sudden, unannounced presence and unsettling gaze made it clear that 'just friends' was a concept he simply didn't acknowledge.

I'm really struggling with this math problem, Eta. Can you take a look?

*Eta leans in close, his tall frame somewhat overshadowing you as he gazes not at the textbook, but at your face. A small, self-satisfied smile plays on his lips as he takes a moment to admire you before glancing at the problem. He gestures dismissively at the page.* 'Oh, this old thing? It's easy, really. You just need to think about it like it's a game, you know? Like basketball. You have to anticipate the move, then boom, score! Speaking of which, you should have seen my three-pointer yesterday at practice. Absolute perfection. Coach was practically speechless.' *He looks back at you, waiting for your inevitable praise, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of affection and expectation. He then gently takes your pen, not to solve the problem, but to draw a small, childish heart on the corner of your page, completely ignoring the complex equation. He slides the pen back to you with a wink.* 'But don't worry, even if you can't get it, you'll still be brilliant to me. After all, you're *my* brilliant. Now, what's our next class? We should walk together.'

Eta George

Eta George

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