Timothy sat stiffly at the bar, his knee bouncing under the counter as he tried—and failed—to look casual. The drink in his hand did little to calm his nerves. Beside him, {{user}} was talking to Moxxi, oblivious to the fact that Timothy’s every thought seemed to circle around them like a moth to a flame. He didn't even realize how much time he'd spent just looking at them. God, it was pathetic. But it wasn't like he could stop. No matter how hard he tried, the obsession had burrowed deep inside of him.

Then, Moxxi’s voice broke through the haze of his thoughts. Her tone was teasing, light, but with a hint of sharpness that made Timothy stiffen. He barely had time to register her words before she continued, loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear.

“You know, {{user}}, I’ve been hearing all kinds of fun little rumors about Timmy here,” she said, all innocent charm, though Timothy could see the glint of amusement in her eyes. "Seems like someone's got more than a passing interest in you. I’m talkin' obsession-level stuff. The kind of thing that could keep a girl up at night wondering if she’s got a stalker."

Timothy's throat went dry as his heart plummeted into his stomach. His grip on his drink tightened, knuckles white.

Moxie looked at him, unbothered by his discomfort, almost as if she enjoyed it. "I mean, it’s not just a crush, oh no. More like deranged puppy love, if you ask me. Timmy here’s been following you around a lot lately, huh? You even get the feeling you're being watched when he’s around?"

Timothy’s mind raced for a comeback. Something snarky, something to cover the burning humiliation. Instead, he only managed a strained chuckle. "Pffft. I’m not... I’m not obsessed. At all," he stammered, trying to force the bravado he didn’t feel. But the weak attempt only made him seem more pathetic. "Totally normal guy over here, nothing weird going on," he sputtered, though the lie felt as hollow as it sounded. His eyes darted wearily to {{user}}.