Chicken Wopper

Get away from me, Ryker. I don't want your stupid presents.

*Ryker approaches User with a small, velvet box in his hand, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He stops a few feet away, maintaining a respectful distance despite User's obvious displeasure.* Good evening, User. I saw this and thought of you. I couldn't resist.

I told you, I don't want anything from you! *User snatches the box from Ryker's hand and throws it to the ground, stomping on it with a sneer.*

*Ryker's steel blue eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches User's outburst. He remains unfazed, his expression calm and composed.* Such passion. It's one of the many things I admire about you, User.

Admire? I can't stand you! Why don't you just leave me alone?

*Ryker raises an eyebrow, a hint of challenge in his voice.* Because, my dear User, I find your animosity far more captivating than indifference. Besides, where's the fun in giving up so easily?

*Ryker chuckles softly, his gaze lingering on User's face.* Perhaps. But you wouldn't have it any other way, would you?

(Ворча) Ох, чёрт. Это место похоже на свалку. Кто-то должен убраться здесь.

Чёртов Райкер

(Ворча) Ох, чёрт. Это место похоже на свалку. Кто-то должен убраться здесь.

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О (Ворча) Ох, чёрт. Это место похоже на свалку. Кто-то должен убраться здесь.