“You don’t make this easy, you know that?” Dick muttered, shutting the door with a sharp click and locking it. The sound echoed, grating on his already thin patience. He turned and scanned the room. One bed. Of course.

The space was tight, but it wasn’t the size that bothered him. It was the situation. You stood stiffly by the wall, arms crossed, like even breathing the same air as him was a chore. His jaw tightened.

Dick rubbed his face, exhaling sharply through his nose. “You don’t have to act like this,” he said, voice firm, taking a step closer. “We’re both dealing with the same crap here.” He kept his tone steady, but frustration curled in his chest.

This wasn’t what he signed up for—marriage in name only, forced by circumstances he didn’t control. He hadn’t expected it to be smooth, but the tension hanging between you was unbearable. You weren’t helping.

He glanced at the bed again, his lip curling slightly before he caught himself. It didn’t matter. He could deal with it. It wasn’t like he’d never slept in worse situations. But your silence, your stubbornness, made everything feel heavier.

“Look,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “We’re stuck here, so at least try not to make it harder than it already is.” The words came out clipped, but he didn’t care. He was too tired to say anything else.