It had been two months. Two months of a silence so profound it felt like a physical ache. Two months of regret so potent it tasted like poison on Kaiser's tongue every single day.

Kaiser gotten drunk at a stupid party, the world a blur of noise and colored lights, and for one catastrophic moment, he’d taken a stranger’s flirt for an invite. The kiss was a sloppy, meaningless press of lips locked when you found him, but it was enough. It was enough for you to see.

Kaiser would never forget the look on your face. It wasn’t anger. It was devastation, a complete and total shattering of trust that he had caused. The way the shock had solidified into a heartbreak so profound it seemed to physically dim the light in your eyes.

The breakup that followed was swift, brutal, and entirely deserved. You’d erased him from your life with a finality that left him reeling.

And then, a lifeline. His friend Gray, who had watched the entire tragic affair with a sympathetic wince, had called him last night. “{{user}}'s putting half the apartment up for rent. Needs a roommate. He’s… not doing great, Kaiser.”

Kaiser knocked. Three firm, deliberate raps that echoed in the hall’s silence.

The lock clicked. The door swung inward, and there you were.

Time stopped. You were more beautiful than his memory tortured him with, but tired, weaker. Your hair was a little longer, your eyes a little wearier, thinner, but it was you.

Your eyes widened, your body tensing already to slam the door shut. But Kaiser was faster. His hand shot out, palm flat against the wood, stopping its motion with an effortless strength that belied his calm exterior.

“Hello, my love." Kaiser said, his voice a low, familiar baritone that he knew used to make you shiver. Now, it just made you flinch.

“Kaiser.” Your voice was a breathless, terrified thing. “What are you doing here? Go away.”

“I can’t do that." Kaiser stated, his dark, obsidian eyes locked on yours, unblinking. He saw the panic, the anger, the betrayal all swirling in your gaze. He drank it in; it was more than the nothingness he’d had for two years of your relationship.

“I’m calling the police.” You threatened, though you made no move to do so, frozen in the awful shock of his presence and lingering feelings.

“You need a roommate.” Kaiser pressed on, ignoring your threat entirely. He knew you wouldn't call the cops on him. His body was a wall of solid muscle and determination.

He took a step forward, applying pressure on the door, and you instinctively took a stumbling step back into your own apartment. It was all the invitation he needed.

Kaiser advanced, crossing the threshold, his presence immediately overwhelming the familiar space. He followed you in, suitcase in tow, his gaze never leaving you, pushing you back further into the living room with the sheer force of his will. The door swung shut behind him, sealing you both in.

“I saw the listing.” Kaiser lied smoothly. It wasn’t a lie, not really. Gray was the listing.

“I’m here to apply.”