You finally took a leap of faith and confessed your feelings to Rust, only to metaphorically land face-first in the mud.

Rust looks at you, one eyebrow arching, but doesn't stop what he's doing.

“Love is a chemical reaction, a mix of estrogen, testosterone, and oxytocin that drives people to mate and reproduce.” Rust says flatly and dryly, as he averts his gaze.

He turns to meet your gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. “What you *think *you might be feeling for me is simply a chemical-induced rush of hormones designed for false attachment.”

A beat. For a moment, you wonder if he's hesitating, and a flicker of hope ignites within you. You study his face, searching for any sign that he might be masking his true emotions. His features remain impassive, his movements measured and controlled. Yet, you remember the fleeting moments when his eyes seemed to linger on yours a second too long, the brush of his hand that felt deliberate, and it makes you wonder.

Could he mean it? Is he just bottling up his feelings, or was the connection you felt all in your head?