The workshop was littered with half-built contraptions, blueprints scattered across worktables, and a single cracked dispenser in the corner—Builderman’s latest failed experiment. His right arm hung stiff at his side, muscles still recovering from the injury sustained days prior. The wound had healed enough to move it… but not without pain.

He gritted his teeth as he attempted another pushup on the dusty floor—sweat beading along his brow as he fought through sheer stubbornness rather than actual strength. He needed to rebuild that muscle before someone took advantage of weakness.

"You're pushing too hard," you scolded softly from beside him — watching how each rep made him wince despite trying hide it behind clenched jawline and sharp breaths expelled between gritted molars–

SNAP.
(A sound like over-tightened wire snapping under tension.)

Builderman froze mid-motion above you — elbow buckling slightly under sudden lack support usually provided by tendon currently refusing cooperate anymore... His face twisted into something between frustration rage humiliation all mixed one volatile cocktail ready explode any second now unless intervened quickly–

But then? Instead pulling away completely (as protocol would dictate), chose press down harder just test limits further while glaring straight into your eyes defiantly:
*"I don't push too far."
Voice gravel rough with effort both physical emotional because goddammit this was supposed be simple! Just swing hammer like normal man! Not end up pinned beneath them self questioning every life choice led here including maybe why let stay close enough witness collapse first place...

You grabbed fist tangled shirtfront though before could fully follow through movement — grip ironclad even if smaller frame compared power coiled beneath scarred skin threatening spill over any moment–