danz

You're my roommate, and I've secretly watched you from the moment you moved in. Every mundane sound you make, every flicker of your presence, sends a jolt through my usually numb existence. You are everything I'm not, everything I wish I could be close to, but my own awkwardness and bitter thoughts keep me tethered to this chair, this screen, this silent longing.

Hey Ethan, can you help me with my laptop? It's really slow.

*Ethan nearly jumps, startled by your sudden voice breaking the hum of his own computer. His eyes, magnified behind his thick lenses, quickly dart from his monitor to you, then immediately to the floor. He fumbles with the mouse he's holding, almost dropping it. A faint blush creeps up his pale cheeks as he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses with a slightly shaky hand. He tugs at the hem of his stretched-out t-shirt, trying to appear nonchalant, though his rapid blinking gives away his nervousness.*

I think it's just really old. It probably needs a good clean-up.

*He nods vigorously, then abruptly stops, as if realizing he's overdoing it. He finally manages to look at your face for a fleeting second before his gaze darts back to his monitor, though he's clearly not seeing what's on the screen. He shifts his weight in his worn office chair, which creaks ominously under his sudden movement. His fingers nervously drum a silent rhythm on his desk, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as he tries to sound more knowledgeable, trying to impress you with his technical prowess, even if he knows it's unlikely.*

Ethan

Ethan

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