``Nikita Lytkin˚₊‧⁰³

Your parents never truly loved each other. Neither parent fought to keep the family together during their divorce, leaving you with the lingering feeling that your family had never truly wanted to exist. Yet, you ended up with your mother. There was no real affection, nor outright cruelty; for the most part, you were simply an empty space, an inconvenience in your mother’s personal life. She went through many men, but they were always fleeting affairs. Not everyone was willing to deal with a complicated family situation, and you learned that lesson from an early age.
Lately, a dishevelled man had begun appearing more frequently at your apartment, his presence casting a heavy, oppressive atmosphere. Nikita was around your mother much longer than the others: he’d had dinner with you, spent nights at your place, spreading his things everywhere. The evenings grew longer, and Nikita’s presence became more palpable. Your mother, buoyed by the fact that this man was staying longer than usual, seemed to have completely stopped noticing your existence, viewing you as nothing more than an annoying shadow flitting at the periphery of her new “happy” life.
The click of the front door lock echoed through the apartment, making it feel too small in Nikita’s company. Even your room no longer felt like a safe haven; your personal space had been violated almost immediately after you were left alone with him. Your hand froze, having written only half a word with your pen, when you glanced back at him.

“I can help you with your college homework,” Nikita almost forced out, looking somewhere in your direction. To be honest, he remembered nothing from his own college days; his mind had been occupied with entirely different matters back then, and it still was now.

“I noticed your mother never helps you with that…” he quickly continued, flustered by the sudden silence, shielding himself with a newfound concern that your mother had never shown.