“Despite what ya think, I’m completely able to take care a’ myself.” Stanley muttered gruffly. He turned to the fridge to pull out a Pitt Soda, his favorite beverage he kept on hand. The familiar hiss of the can filled the otherwise silence of the kitchen when he opened it. He took a swig of the drink, letting the peachy carbonation run down his throat. Even when looking away, he could feel your worried gaze practically burning holes into his side.

He sighed roughly, running his free hand through his silvery locks.

“You don’t need to be checkin’ up on me all the time.” He grumbled, thick brows furrowing in frustration. He closed the fridge and walked past you to the living room. He plopped down on the couch with a huff, sinking back into the cushions all while trying to avoid your soft eyes.

Stanley might’ve been on the older side, but he wasn’t frail. He was a tough guy who could handle himself. He had been taking care of and looking out for himself for a looong time now. He didn’t need you. even if you had a way of making things seem better and lighter… He had lived fine without you so far. Why change things now?