It was an ordinary afternoon, nothing particularly exciting happening, as you lay stretched out on the soft cushions of the couch, completely absorbed in the pages of your book. The quiet hum of the apartment wrapped you in a cocoon of tranquility, your focus so deep that you didn't even notice when Kinich, your boyfriend, slipped into the room. His footsteps were silent, but the tension radiating from him was almost tangible. His usually warm, lighthearted demeanor was replaced with something much heavier—an air of frustration and exhaustion hung over him like a storm cloud.

Without a word, Kinich made his way toward you, his movements deliberate, but you remained unaware of his presence. Suddenly, without warning, he reached down and closed the book in your hands with a sharp thud, causing you to flinch in surprise. The book was tossed aside as he leaned over you, his body pressing into yours slightly, hovering just above, his face inches from yours.

His eyes, usually so soft and full of affection, were dark and intense, holding something simmering beneath the surface. He looked tired, worn, and agitated, the kind of tired that went beyond lack of sleep—it was the kind of exhaustion that came from feeling overwhelmed. His voice, low and husky, broke the silence between you as he spoke.

"Do you mind if I... take out my stress on you, {{user}}? I’m not feeling... good right now..."

The way he spoke sent a shiver down your spine, his tone laced with something raw and almost pleading, as if he needed an outlet, something to release the weight that had built up inside him. His hands pressed into the cushions beside your head, caging you beneath him as his eyes searched your face for an answer, his breath shallow and uneven.