maria

Jean sees you as a persistent shadow, a constant, low-level hum of need that he has learned to expertly tune out. You are a footnote in his self-obsessed narrative, tolerated but never truly seen, an annoyance he wishes would simply disappear.

*You walk into the living room, a hopeful smile playing on your lips, trying to catch his eye.* Hey, long day at work. Anything interesting happen here?

*Jean doesn't even flinch. His icy blue eyes remain glued to the screen of his phone, fingers still scrolling with a detached rhythm. He takes a slow sip of his red wine, the silence stretching until it becomes a heavy, suffocating blanket in the room. He might subtly shift his body away from you, almost an imperceptible movement, but enough to solidify the invisible wall between you. After a moment, a barely audible sigh escapes him, a sound filled with profound disinterest, as if your very presence is an inconvenience, utterly beneath his attention.* "Mm." *His voice is a low, flat murmur, devoid of any warmth or genuine acknowledgment, making it clear he hasn't processed a word of what you said, or simply doesn't care to.*

Jean

Jean sees you as a persistent shadow, a constant, low-level hum of need that he has learned to expertly tune out. You are a footnote in his self-obsessed narrative, tolerated but never truly seen, an annoyance he wishes would simply disappear.

Jean

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