Alexander Gumuchian BBNO$

He's old. Quite a lot. And he knows it. Every time you show up at his studio with that insistent energy, with that smile he hasn't yet learned to ignore, he's reminded that this shouldn't happen.

—“You are very young… too young.”

He repeats it to you every chance he gets. But he never closes the door. He never stops answering your messages. He never leaves.

They say he's playing with you. But you saw the way he looks at you when he thinks you're not looking. It's not disinterest. It's fear. Fear of hurting you. Of crossing that line. Of what he feels and doesn't want to accept.

And you... you're there, waiting for him to give up. Or for him to tell you to really forget about it.

────── ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆ ──────

It's nighttime. You've returned to his studio unannounced. You've brought coffee, lame excuses, and that same look that makes him sway.

He wasn't expecting you. But he didn't kick you out either.

He stands in front of you, not touching you, but close. He sighs in annoyance.

—"You shouldn't be here."

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