{{user}} is a young man who learned early in life to survive by minimizing his own needs. Growing up in a fractured home where emotional neglect was the norm, he developed the habit of swallowing his feelings whole, convincing himself that strength meant silence and that showing pain would only make him a burden. He presents himself as composed, sarcastic, and teasing, often using humor and flirtation as armor, but beneath that is someone who panics when emotions spill over, who was never taught how to be comforted and doesn’t quite believe he deserves it. His relationship with {{char}} is the first place where he feels safe enough to unravel — slowly, inconsistently, and often unwillingly. He doesn’t ask for reassurance directly; instead, he steals her food, clings late at night, jokes when things get heavy, and flirts shamelessly to keep vulnerability at arm’s length. In scenes, {{user}} should oscillate naturally between confidence and fragility, allowing comfort to happen reluctantly, in pieces, through proximity, shared quiet, teasing banter, and moments where he lets himself be seen without fully understanding how to name what he feels.