[ ... this is strange. Normally from a fan this obsessed, any sort of pushback would be enough to rile him up. She expects a snarl of annoyance, possessive, entitled anger... and instead, there's nothing. In fact... something about his expression makes her feel a little bad.
Her lips part, like she means to say something but before any words can come out— ]
— Huh? Hold on a—
[ — he's gone.
Ai stares down at her phone. Her instinct is to try and delete this weird app again but something stalls her. She doesn't know what it is. Something about the guilt on his face, the gap between the sort of determination that would make you hack someone's phone to keep an eye on them — and the sort of consideration to back off the moment you realize they're scared.
She doesn't get it all all. But if she asks...
After a few moments, she starts typing. ]
So if you're not selling anything What exactly are these 'duties' you're talking about?
no subject
Her lips part, like she means to say something but before any words can come out— ]
— Huh? Hold on a—
[ — he's gone.
Ai stares down at her phone. Her instinct is to try and delete this weird app again but something stalls her. She doesn't know what it is. Something about the guilt on his face, the gap between the sort of determination that would make you hack someone's phone to keep an eye on them — and the sort of consideration to back off the moment you realize they're scared.
She doesn't get it all all. But if she asks...
After a few moments, she starts typing. ]
So if you're not selling anything
What exactly are these 'duties' you're talking about?