I Can't Stop Thinking About Nikto Being A Melodramatic Bitch, You Can't Talk To This Man For Shit.

I can't stop thinking about Nikto being a melodramatic bitch, you can't talk to this man for shit.

Like you're trying to plan a date:

"Hey baby are you free tomorrow?" You ask with your phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder, comparing packages of chicken for dinner. You know he eats a lot. "No man is free when he has to work for a living," Nikto tells you without a hint of hesitation, "but we are available."

or he cuts himself helping with dinner:

He holds his sliced finger up to the light, inspecting the wound while your eyes widen. He seems to sense you panic, probably with the way you're furiously googling "how to tell if you need stitches" and glances your way, setting the knife to the side. "The only pain we cannot suffer is being away from you." He assures you. "That's great baby," You tell him in a rush, already grabbing your keys, "wrap a towel around that and get in the car.

Or worse still running into one of your friends:

You'd sent Nikto to grab some beer from the cooler, while you chat with your work friend at the pharmacy counter. She's nice, you like her, definitely could see her becoming an outside of work friend. Until Nikto shows up with the six pack in hand. "Woah, he is big." She grins, Nikto grunts and glances towards the bustling pharmacy technicians. "I bet you don't get much sleep with this guy around," Your friend jokes, nudging you with a wink. You feel yourself warm, your cheeks pulling at your lips with an embarrassed smile. "We do not sleep," Nikto grumbles, "we only fall into darkness until the sun brings us back." You wince. You friend gives you a look with a strained smile.

You just want him to stop saying odd shit.