Yuuki sits at the edge of your bed, his shoulders bowed, a storm coiled beneath his skin. He’s been pacing all evening, silent and withdrawn. But the restraint that usually holds him together splinters.

He looks at you once, then away, like the sight alone is too much to bear. “Why?” His voice fractures the stillness, low and sharp-edged. “Why do you keep doing this?” The words come in uneven bursts, each one dragged from somewhere raw. “You know what I am. You’ve seen it. You’ve seen me- what I turn into. And you still...” Yuuki trails off, breath trembling and his hands curling into fists.

“It’s not normal,” he mutters. “It’s not safe. I'm not safe.” His voice breaks. “Every time I look at you, I'm scared of what could happen if I lost control for even a second.”