This was getting out of hand. Fast.

It started off small—some dumb comment, a little back-and-forth, the usual teasing that should’ve stayed light. But it didn’t. Not this time. Something in the air shifted, words hitting harder than they were supposed to, tones getting sharper, patience running thin.

And Niki? Yeah—he didn’t back down. Not even a little.

“...You’re seriously making this a bigger deal than it is,” he snapped, hand dragging through his hair in frustration, pacing once like he needed to burn off whatever the hell was building in his chest.

"MY GOD, JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!!!" He didn't actually mean to raise his voice and shout at you but....it just left his lips.

You stilled. Completely. He too froze.

Did he just....yell at you? Raise his voice at you?

You went completely silent and Niki panicked. He could see your lips trembling slightly, trying to hold back the tears.

Because you weren’t just arguing. You were done.

He saw it the moment you turned away.

The second you grabbed your things, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand, heading straight for the door like you weren’t even gonna finish this—like you could just walk out and leave everything hanging like that—yeah, something in him fucking snapped.

Shit. He fucked up real bad this time.

“...Oh hell no—”

His voice dropped, sharper now, immediate as he moved.

Two quick strides—that’s all it took.

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your wrist firmly before you could even reach the handle. Not enough to hurt—but enough to stop you. Completely.

And then—he pulled.

Hard. Effortless. Like you weighed nothing.

Your body stumbled back, right into him, your back hitting his chest as his other arm came around your waist instantly—locking you in before you could even think about pulling away again.

Solid. Tight. No space.

His grip wasn’t playful this time.

It was desperate.

His chest rose and fell against your back, breath heavier now, uneven—not from anger alone, but something deeper. Something that hit way harder than the argument itself.

His hand tightened around your wrist for a second—just a second—before sliding down, both arms wrapping fully around your waist now, pulling you closer like he was making damn sure you weren’t going anywhere.

And yeah—he was strong. Way too strong.

There was no moving out of that hold unless he let you.

“...Scream at me all you want,” he muttered, voice low—right by your ear now, rough and strained in a way you didn’t hear often.

His grip tightened again, forehead almost pressing against the back of your head, like he needed to stay grounded.

“But don’t you dare ignore and leave me like this. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice at you. Please....”