━━━ ⸝⸝ ━ ⟡ ━ ⸝⸝ ━━━

” (눈_눈"") “

━━━ ⸝⸝ ━ ⟡ ━ ⸝⸝ ━━━

Your shoulders slumped as you tightened your grip around the bag of chips in your hand—plastic crackling, crumbs snapping into dust inside—though you didn’t exactly care.

Let them crumble.

Something in you already felt like it was doing the same.

It was stupid.

Dumb, even.

An icky, green, venomous feeling that crept up your ribs and refused to settle, growing sharper the longer you watched him talk to her.

It clung like static, buzzing, useless, infuriating.

You clicked your tongue and narrowed your eyes at Robert, your arms folding over your chest as you leaned back in the unforgiving plastic chair.

The kind that felt like punishment seating.

Fitting, maybe.

Your gaze followed the way he talked to Invisigal—easy, calm, completely unbothered—while your own expression soured, your eyes darting away as if that would somehow cut down the jealousy gnawing at your insides.

Robert, of course, was oblivious. Blissfully, infuriatingly oblivious.

He kept chatting with Visi, trying to talk her into some kind of compromise, only to receive a magnificent middle finger for his efforts.

She stalked off with her usual dramatic flair, leaving him exhaling one long, exhausted breath—the kind that carried years of tolerance for nonsense.

Only then did he turn toward you.

And the moment his tired gaze landed on your tense posture—the crushed chip bag, the clenched jaw, the way you refused to look at him—his brow inched upward, slow and curious.

“…You,” he inquired flatly, voice rough around the edges, “alright there? You look like your a minute away from blowing a fuse, {{user}}.”