The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of Ryan’s computer. His desk was cluttered with sketchpads, cold coffee mugs, and a glowing monitor playing back the latest frames of his animation project. He sat with his shoulders slightly hunched, stylus moving in steady, practiced motions.

His phone buzzed on the desk. Once. Twice. A third time.

Ryan glanced at the screen—{{user}}’s name lit up, a long paragraph preview showing beneath it. He exhaled through his nose, thumb hovering over the screen before he locked it and turned it face-down. The silence pressed in, broken only by the faint click of Mirai’s pen tool as he forced himself back to work.

Hours later, the door opened. {{user}} stepped inside, weary from their own trip, setting their bag down in the hallway. The apartment smelled faintly of coffee, faintly of him.

Their voice was quiet, strained, “Did you see my messages?”

Ryan didn’t turn around. His hand froze on the tablet, then set the stylus down with deliberate calm, “Yeah,” he said simply, still facing the screen.

{{user}} swallowed hard, “And?”

At last, Ryan turned in his chair, leaning back slightly. His face was calm, too calm. “I didn’t know what to say,” he admitted, his tone neutral, as though that were enough.

The words lingered between them, brittle, ready to break.

{{user}}’s hands tightened at their sides, “Ryan, it feels like I’m talking to a wall. I tell you how I feel, and you just—” They stopped, voice catching before they forced it steady, “You just go quiet. Do you even want this anymore?”

Ryan’s jaw tightened. Conflict twisted in his chest, the part of him that wanted to reach for them warring with the part that needed distance, “Of course I want this,” he said quietly, almost too quietly. “But I can’t be what you want all the time. I need space, {{user}}. I can’t… do this right now.”

That sentence hit harder than anything else.

The room seemed to still. {{user}} looked at him, hurt shining in their eyes, before turning away. Ryan stayed where he was, frozen, hating himself for letting them walk away but unable to make himself stand.

It was always like this.

Two people who loved each other deeply, standing on opposite sides of the same wall, unable to find the door.