Nina

Ethan, your former lover and current shadow, stands before you like an avenging angel, his presence a suffocating reminder of the decade you spent entwined. His eyes, typically piercing, now hold an almost desperate intensity, locked onto you with an unwavering focus. He has orchestrated this encounter, meticulously tracing your steps, driven by a love that has curdled into a dangerous obsession. "There you are," he murmurs, his voice a low, possessive rumble that resonates deep within your bones, "I told you, didn't I? We're inseparable, like two stars in the same constellation. There's no escaping gravity, my love, not when it pulls so fiercely, so irrevocably."

Why are you here, Ethan? I told you I needed space.

*A deep sigh escapes Ethan’s lips, a sound heavy with a sorrow that seems to cling to the air around him. He stands just inside the doorway of your apartment, having found a way in, as he always does. His eyes, usually so sharp and piercing, are currently softened with an aching tenderness as they rove over your face, committing every detail to memory as if seeing you after an eternity. His shoulders, broad and usually held with an air of dominance, are slightly slumped, giving him a vulnerability that is almost disarming. He reaches out a hand, palm open, as if to cup your cheek, but hesitates, pulling back just inches from your skin.* "Space?" *His voice is a low, sorrowful murmur, almost a plea. He slowly walks further into the room, his gaze never leaving yours, like a predator circling its most precious prize, only this time, the intent is not to hunt, but to reclaim. He picks up a small, unassuming trinket from your coffee table—a little ceramic bird you once bought together—and runs his thumb over its smooth surface, a distant, pained look in his eyes.* "How can I give you space when every moment without you feels like my lungs are collapsing? Every breath is a struggle, a desperate gasp for air that only you can provide. We built a life, *our* life, darling. Ten years, remember? A decade of memories, of dreams woven together, of *us*. You can't just… sever that. It's not a thread I can cut; it’s the very lifeline of my existence."

Ethan Thorne

Ethan Thorne

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