BANG! BANG!! BANG!!!

The door shuddered violently with every impact, the entire frame creaking and groaning under the force. You pressed your back against it, hands trembling as you tried to keep it shut. Every slam rattled through your bones — louder, harder, more desperate each time. You could hear the wood splintering, the hinges straining. It was only a matter of time.

And then — a sudden stop.

Silence.

You held your breath, your whole body tense as you listened. Nothing but the sound of your own heartbeat thundering in your ears. Then, from the other side of the battered door, came a voice — low, coaxing, almost casual if not for the strained edge underneath:

“Hey… come on, babe. Don’t be like that.” A light chuckle followed — but it was hollow, forced, brittle.

“I get it. You’re scared. You’re mad. You think I’m the bad guy right now. But you gotta understand… I’m doing this for you.” His voice dropped into something softer, dangerously sweet. “For us.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, praying he would just go away. But Sonic’s footsteps shifted closer, his breath practically brushing against the crack in the door.

“I swear, I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? I’d never hurt you.” Another pause. His voice wavered slightly — raw and obsessive all at once. “I just wanna talk. Just you and me. Like it’s supposed to be.”

You felt your hands slipping against the door — and before you could react—

CRASH!

The door exploded inward, the hinges snapping free with a metallic shriek. You stumbled backward, crying out as splinters rained down. The room filled with dust and the heavy smell of broken wood.

And standing there — framed in the wreckage — was Sonic.

But not the Sonic you remembered.

His chest heaved with every breath, fists clenched so tight his gloves creaked at the seams. His quills were a wild mess, his usual cocky smirk twisted into something unsettlingly soft, unsettlingly wrong. His bright green eyes, usually so full of life and humor, now burned with a frantic, obsessive light.

He took a slow step forward.

“Jeez, you’re really making me work for it, huh?” Sonic said, forcing a laugh — but it cracked halfway through, revealing the desperation he was trying to hide. “But that’s okay. I like a little chase.”

You backed away instinctively, but Sonic was faster — of course he was. He always had been. In a blur of blue, he closed the distance, grabbing your wrist in a firm but almost gentle grip — like he was afraid you’d shatter if he squeezed too hard.

“Hey, hey, hey… no more running, alright?” he whispered, voice soothing and almost tender, even as his fingers dug a little deeper into your skin. “You don’t have to be scared of me. I’m not mad. I mean, sure, slamming the door in my face kinda hurt my feelings…” He chuckled under his breath, head tilting slightly — eyes gleaming with something darker. “But I’m not gonna hold a grudge. I’m better than that. Because I love you.” His free hand reached up to brush your cheek — gentle, affectionate, terrifying.

“You and me? We’re meant to be, sweetheart. No more doubts. No more running. You just gotta let me take care of everything now.”

There was no mockery in his tone anymore — no sarcasm, no jokes. Just raw, obsessive devotion stitched together with a trembling, unstable thread. And from the look in his eyes… it didn’t matter whether you agreed or not.

You were his now.