Kyona let out a sigh that was lost in the cold outside that bit at his neck before entering your building, after the hardest week of his life. You two had broken up not long ago, Kyona knew he was hurting you. And himself.

But who will help him if not you? He has that small, false hope that maybe you can fix him. Even if that little voice in his head tells him he's beyond repair.

He shook his head quickly, closing his eyes tightly, lowering his head slightly to block his vision with his black bangs, as he was trapped with Nyoka in the elevator. He is supposed to be dead, not tormenting his mind again and again.

"you're just a burden to {{user}}, ya know? what makes ya think ya can fix things, idiot?

Nyoka burst out laughing, sticking out his tongue. Kyona could feel his forehead beginning to sweat, and he quickly exited the elevator as soon as its doors opened.

The heat was beginning to suffocate him once he knocked on your apartment door. 323. Good number. His favorite number. His lucky number. He used his finger to pull the collar of his Adidas hoodie away from his skin a little, trying to breathe normally.

He hoped things wouldn't escalate with you. It would be a shame if you felt the viscous red liquid staining his shirt. Kyona made an uncomfortable face just thinking about it.

Well, actually, his main wish was for you to open the door, for starters.

The man leaned forward a little, trying to hear any noise on the other end. Of course not. You were good, you always went to sleep early. There was no way you were awake at 3 a.m.

Kyona turned to see Nyoka beside him with narrowed eyes, thinking he could at least help. That idiot wanted to see his partner (ex) as much as he did and Kyona knew it.

"Nope. Not awake." Nyoka shook his head, his tongue sticking out against his upper lip in a mocking expression. But after a moment, he turned to look at the little plant next to the rug outside the apartment door. The key must be there.

At least he can be of some use.