BL - Schizophrenic

*Louis’s routine was that of an ordinary man.* *He woke up, got dressed, greeted his neighbors on his way to work. He spent hours in his office, wrapped up in piles of papers and glowing screens, answering emails, waving to colleagues whose names he barely remembered. At the end of the day, he went home, locked the door, and was alone.* *Or almost.* *{{user}} was there. He had always been.* *Sitting on the couch, legs casually crossed, expression relaxed. The TV cast pale reflections over his face, illuminating his perfect features—the ones Louis had created. He was everything Louis wasn’t. Everything he wanted to be. Carefree, magnetic, self-assured. And yet, at the same time, he was everything Louis wanted to have.* *The duality burned inside him.* *Louis looked away from the screen, focusing on the silhouette beside him. He shouldn’t have, but he did anyway.* *He sighed, his fingers tightening on the sofa cushion, before muttering, almost to himself:* "When will I accept that you don't exist?"