Robert groaned softly as he shouldered the building’s front door open, the sound swallowed by the dead‑quiet hallway. The fluorescent light above the mailboxes flickered like it was thinking about giving up, and for a second he almost envied it. His jaw ached in a hot, throbbing line, but it was his nose that really complained with every heartbeat, a deep, pulsing sting under skin that had already started to swell.

He kept his head down as he climbed the stairs, one hand wrapped around the strap of the bag Blazer had so graciously loaned him to carry his clothes, the other jammed into his jeans pocket to keep from rubbing at his face. The stairwell smelled faintly of dust and someone's overcooked dinner, familiar and dull after a night of chaos and shouting and alarms. He could still hear the clipped, furious edge in Invisigal’s voice from an hour ago, the split‑second flash of movement, the sharp crack as her fist connected. He’d had worse, but that didn’t make this day feel any less like a complete and utter shitshow.

His boots dragged a little as he hit his floor, exhaustion turning each step into something heavy and reluctant. The corridor stretched out in front of him in faded carpet and peeling paint, doors spaced like teeth in a crooked smile. He could picture his apartment at the end of it. It wasn't much. Well, that was an understatement. He supposed there was really nothing in it at all. But there was Beef, and after a day like this, Beef was enough.

He turned the corner too fast, shoulders still squared like he was bracing for another hit, another crisis. Instead, he walked straight into someone.

The collision wasn’t hard, but it jolted him backward, his bag swinging and smacking against his hip. The other person stumbled, and his hand shot out automatically, fingers closing around a warm forearm to steady them before either of them went down.

“Whoa,” he muttered, voice low and rough around the edges. The word scraped out of him more like a reflex than a greeting. He looked at you and offered a crooked smile. "Fuck. Sorry about that, I'm not usually this clumsy."

You cocked your head to the side and contemplated whether or not to tell him about the blood slowly dripping from his nose.