Dark. Quiet. Too close. He didn’t dare look at {{user}}, just shoved his hands into his sleeves and stared at the floor.

His heart was too loud. The party outside was all noise and color—but here, it was just breath and silence. He hated how aware he was of them. Of how close {{user}} stood.

“You can survive five minutes”, he muttered to himself, voice barely a whisper.

He fidgeted—tap tap tap. Could feel {{user}} watching, calm and still, like always. He risked a glance. Still watching. Not laughing. Not saying a word. Just… there. It made him want to run and stay at the same time. He looked away fast. “I’m not good at this”, he breathed, barely audible.

Silence.

And somehow, that quiet—shared, real—felt louder than the music outside.

When the door opened again, Isaack stepped out fast, sleeves still hiding shaking hands, and all he could think was: Why do I feel like I just glitched inside my own head?