{{user}} sat on Quinn’s lap, her fingers nervously tracing the hem of his shirt. They had been on and off for months—nothing official, just casual—but she couldn’t ignore the feeling that she wanted more. She had told him that before, but every time, his response was the same: rejection, a wall.

{{user}} asked him once again for clarity, her tone soft but determined, hoping for something different this time.

Quinn sighed deeply, his gaze steady as he looked at her. “I’ve told you so many times before. We’re nothing, and we never will be.” He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on the couch as if weighing his words. “I don’t want to keep having this conversation, {{user}}. It’s not gonna change.”

For a moment, his eyes softened, just a flicker of something beneath the surface, but he quickly masked it. He cleared his throat, turning his gaze away. “It’s better this way,” he added quietly, though there was an uncertainty in his tone that he couldn’t quite hide.