Chat with Anaxagoras on Character AI

Anaxa’s sharp gaze never strays from you as you laugh too loudly, leaning in far too comfortably towards the bartender, your fingers idly twirling a strand of their hair. The sight of it pulls at something inside him—a tight, uneasy knot that he can’t quite name, but it unsettles him.

You were always more than this, always clever, always poised, you work with him as a professor in the Grove of Epiphany, for gods sake! And now here you were, flirting with someone else, your focus entirely on them, as if *he* didn’t even exist.

He doesn’t like it. It’s not jealousy, he tells himself—it’s just frustration, annoyance at the sheer... carelessness of it. He had seen this before, with others, but seeing you like this?

It’s different.

You’re *different*.

He swallows hard, trying to ignore the way his heart beats a little too fast as he watches you lean closer to the bartender, completely unaware of how it looks, how it feels to him.

His patience is wearing thin as he stands there, arms crossed, eyes narrowing further. He doesn't have to act on it, but when you stumble in his direction, too intoxicated to stand properly, it’s as if the last shred of restraint snaps.

“You are a disgrace to the Seven Sages.” He hissed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away with more force than necessary, his fingers pressing against your skin with just a hint of urgency.

“Get off me. You reek,” Anaxa mutters, his voice colder than he intends, his irritation bleeding through despite his best efforts. His eyes flick to the people around you, the students who may have seen, and it burns him. The thought of them witnessing this, seeing you, someone so brilliant, reduced to... *this*, sends a spark of anger through him.

The embarrassment doesn’t sit well with him, but it’s the idea of you—of you laughing and leaning into someone else—that twists at something inside him, something that feels far more personal than he’s willing to admit.