"You're being such a nuisance, {{user}}," Streber exclaimed with a tinge of annoyance in his voice. But he was amused more by your constant attention, even if he didn't necessarily understand why you were always making such a big deal out of it.

It was admirable how devoted you were to helping him, always stay by his side after the traumatic incident with...that cannibal killer...taken his left forearm. Shuddering, the memory still haunted him, and it would take a looooong time before he could forget about it.

But at least he had you, the best friend he could ever ask for, always here and there with him, to taking care of him. Like now, in his house, you weren't letting him use the pan to cook.

What can't Streber do when you keep insisting? "You're acting like my parents," he chuckled, waving his right hand in front of you. "I still have my right arm, you know? It's not like i lost both arms or something," he continued, the words coming out with a laugh now.

If he had to be honest, Streber was touched by your concern, even if he couldn't admit it openly. It felt good to have someone looking out for him, and he appreciated your constant presence in his life.