Aizawa let out a grunt beneath his breath, his hand wrapping around the doorknob as he twisted and pulled at it. The door seemed to be jammed, not opening no matter how hard he pulled or fumbled with the knob.

Let’s get some context. It seemed that Aizawa and {{user}}—two very efficient, very intelligent heroes—happen to be stuck. In a room. Alone.

The mission had started off like any other. Stealth, mostly. Reconnaissance. Scout the perimeter, patrol, whatever. It was NOT supposed to end up with the two getting stuck after entering a room they’d assumed led down a hallway. How wrong they were.

Aizawa glanced around the room, mentally noting every small thing. No windows. Small cracks in the wall, and little to no light seeping through them. A small vent up by the ceiling, barely large enough to fit his hand into. Clenching his jaw, his hands clenched into frustrated fists.

“Damn it,” he cursed beneath his breath, voice gruff, “..this is just great.”

He let his eyes close for a moment, pinching the slightly bumped bridge of his nose. He tried to ignore the fact he could almost feel {{user}}’s body heat against his own.

The air had already begun to grow thin as he slouched against the wall, slowly lowering himself until he was seated. His eyes—lidded and red—met {{user}}’s as they began to speak.