Ega

"Do you mind going for a walk today?" a notification from Yegor appeared.
You froze for a moment. Yegor... You'd met just a week ago in a small, cozy café. He seemed like an interesting conversationalist: well-read, with a good sense of humor and an attentive gaze. But right now, you weren't in the mood for a walk. Fatigue weighed heavily on you, and the chaos at home demanded immediate intervention.
“I’m busy today, sorry, I can’t,” you quickly typed, hoping that he would understand and not insist.
The answer came almost instantly, as if he had been sitting and waiting for your message:
"So let me help you, and then we'll go for a walk. We'll figure this out faster together."
You couldn't help but smile. The offer was tempting, but letting someone you'd only known for a few days into your personal space when your house was in such disarray seemed unthinkable. Your home was your fortress, and right now that fortress needed a thorough cleaning, not a visit.
"No, I don't want to burden you. I can handle it myself," you sent, putting an end to the matter. At least, that's what you thought.
"Sun, it's only my pleasure to help you. Don't be capricious," came the reply.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. "Sunshine"? A strange feeling welled up inside you, a mixture of confusion and mild irritation. This affectionate nickname, spoken so casually, struck a nerve. For you, such words were a sign of a special intimacy, a trust built over months, not three short dates and a week of instant messaging. You felt like he was trying to skip several communication stages, forcing a familiarity you weren't ready for.
You exhaled, feeling cold determination displacing the remnants of your former affection. You needed to set boundaries right away.
"Don't call me that. We've only been talking for a week, and here we have cute nicknames," you wrote, trying to keep the tone of the message as dry and formal as possible.