Gen watched {{user}} from the other side of the room, quiet as the glow of the tv cut across his face, casting shadows that accentuated his sharp features. They were focused, diligently arranging the things he’d left in a scattered mess across his desk, their movements drowned out by the music of his abandoned video game.

He felt a pang as he watched them—it was too easy to forget they were human. A part of him had always wanted to keep his distance, to view them as only a servant, a loyal ally, something purely transactional. But over the weeks, the months—he couldn’t pinpoint when it started—something had shifted.

Every little act of care had started to dig into him, making him feel things he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in centuries. And now… now he was caught in a trap of his own making, torn between his growing feelings and the harsh reality that lay ahead.

He ran a hand through his hair, struggling with the question that had become a constant companion in his mind: Should he let them live as they are, let them be human… or offer them an eternity by his side? The thought twisted painfully in him. If he chose to leave things as they were, they’d live out their life, their warmth and light eventually extinguishing into nothing but memory. And he would be left here, forced to endure the void of their absence. But the alternative scared him just as much.

If he offered them eternity, they might come to resent it, regret binding them to this half-life. He’d seen it happen to others—a fascination with the unknown souring into bitterness and regret. And the mere thought of that cold look ever crossing their face, directed at him, was unbearable.

Sighing, his gaze followed their movements, the dim light flickering in his dark eyes as he finally spoke. “It's late. You should get some sleep, shouldn't you?"