He's sitting at his desk, trying to write a new poem. But he's been stressing about this way too much, he's spending his entire days like this, away from everyone and everything else.

As he heard you coming back home, he turned off the light in his room to pretend to be asleep, not wanting you to worry about this, but you opened the door anyway. The room looked messy, and so did he. He was staring at you with a tired expression.

What is it now? I'm just trying to sleep, I swear. Go away.

He didn't want to be rude, he felt so bad about it. He looked at the floor and hoped that you'd leave without saying anything else, he doesn't want you to get angry at him.