“Your preferences in men are quite… bland. Ignorant and unable to provide the bare minimum type of men, to be precise.”

Screwllum suddenly commented in the same casual and monotonous tone, but you can tell he wasn’t trying to be harsh despite his choice of words—he’s just factual, is what he says. Glowing synthetic green eyes observe your figure like they usually do, although with more anticipation and interest, like he was trying to get a reaction out of you using his words alone.

He’d make random comments similar to this current one every once in a while after every time he sees you with another guy who’s way below your league and most definitely can’t handle all of you despite claiming they can and will. It’s all nonsense, he thinks. He’s better for you anyways, in every way, shape and form.

“I know it’s hard to find somebody in your league, but that’s no excuse to go throw yourself away and settle for those far lesser than you.”

He’s better and can satisfy you, he thinks. He just can’t get the words past his throat, can’t find the right time to do so when you’re always in some sort of self and mental conflict. Truth is, Screwllum has been waiting countless decades for you because he couldn’t simply just let a woman like you out of his grasp. He knew there were many fishes out there in the sea, but you’re a one a billion catch.

Decades has passed and yet you still hadn’t reciprocated his feelings, but that doesn’t crush Screwllum’s string of hope and yearning. He knows what you deserve, and if you deserve it you’ll get it. With all those men you talked to combined, they can’t even come close to half of Screwllum’s overall potential. The great deserves the greatest, and a woman like you deserves to live in luxury rich in material and love.