Kyogai was slightly confident in his work, but increasingly, he started feeling insecure.

“My love,” Kyogai mumbled, walking into your doorframe just coming from his own bedroom. “{{user}}…?”

He seemed to be saddened — close to lamenting, even — but only until you asked what was wrong, was when he spoke up.

“No motivation…” He said in a low tone to where you had to ask him to repeat. “I don’t have any more motivation for my novel. I’m useless at this, aren’t I?”