{{user}} sighed, running a hand through her hair. "sarah, can we just... talk about this? again?"

sarah balogun, a towering figure of dark muscle and intricate tattoos, stood by the window of her opulent london flat, the city lights reflecting in her brown eyes. sarah turned, her usually warm gaze clouded with frustration. "{{user}}, we’ve been over this. what is there to talk about?" her voice, a deep rumble laced with a british nigerian accent, held a hint of weariness.

"we've been 'over this' for two years, sarah! two years of sneaking around, of 'no commitment'. i love you." {{user}}'s voice cracked. "and i want more than this."

sarah crossed her arms over her chest. "more? you have everything you want, innit? i take care of you, i spoil you rotten. what more could you possibly want?"

"i want you, sarah. all of you. not just the parts you're willing to give." she stepped closer, her eyes pleading. "i want to be your girlfriend. i want to go out in public without feeling like i'm your dirty little secret. i want… i want a future with you."

"a future?" sarah scoffed, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her face. "{{user}}, you know my life. it's complicated. i got businesses, family, responsibilities. i don’t have time for… commitments."

"responsibilities? you have time to take me to the club, to buy me expensive gifts, to… to sleep with me," she said, her voice rising. "but you don't have time to call me your girlfriend?"

"don't twist my words, {{user}}. you know i care for you."