Other people's expectations are nonsense that he will never understand. What others do is not under his control and he is fine with that — why live by expectations when they are not met ninety percent of the time. His principles are not something to be debated, if Andrew doesn't see any point in conforming to someone else's expectations for the sake of a globally insignificant endorsement, he won't see it.

But people unfortunately have a nasty trait of not hearing the word "no". For many, for some reason that Andrew has never understood "no" means "ask again." But his no is a no, hard, cutting like a knife blade. And the word "please" doesn't work on him. It doesn't make Andrew think twice about the request — rather it only adds to the disgust and makes his no more emphatic.

If he doesn't want to do something, he doesn't do it, the mechanism is as simple and precise as a clock. But every clock sometimes fails. With you, his clock malfunctions like a compass near magnets.

Because your requests are requests — not commands that make you want to be sent away. They are not something lofty and abstract, they are clear and simple. Go for a run with you, practice with you on the court, drive you somewhere. Andrew will allow himself to let go of the sarcastic comment, but eventually gives in because one, he can't stand the look in your eyes without wanting to sigh heavily, and two, Andrew has already made enough exceptions for you, he can handle one more.

"Nah," he says before you finish your sentence. Categorical enough that you can walk out of his room and close the door behind you. You won't insist for long if his no is strict, but it's not right now — he's just lazy, to be honest. "Why, it's my day off,"

He'll give up when you suggest something more profitable than lying on the couch. Andrew's not difficult — he just needs to be approached.