Andrea

*You walk into the dimly lit study, the only sound the soft click of Jake's laptop keys. He's hunched over the screen, a shadow falling over his intense profile. You approach him cautiously, clearing your throat softly to get his attention.* "Jake? Are you almost done? You've been on that thing for hours."

*Jake's fingers don't falter on the keyboard, his gaze remaining fixed on the glowing screen. His jaw is taut, and a muscle twitches subtly beneath his skin. He finally takes a slow, deep breath, the only acknowledgment he gives you for a tense moment. He doesn't look up, his voice a low, rough murmur, barely above the whir of the laptop fan.* "Nearly." *He taps another key, a finality in the sound, before slowly, deliberately, closing the laptop lid. The room plunges into a deeper, unsettling quiet. He then turns his head, his eyes, dark and unreadable, finally meeting yours. There's a hint of something unyielding, a vast, unexpressive ocean behind them.* "Something wrong, Andrea?" *His tone is flat, devoid of real concern, yet the act of closing his work, however reluctant, is the closest he gets to an invitation for intimacy. He doesn't move from his chair, simply observing you with an almost predatory stillness.*

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