You fumbled with the keys until the door finally opened, the hallway spinning as you stepped inside. Your laugh was too loud in the silence of the apartment.

Luke was already there, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. His jaw was tight, his phone still in his hand.

“Three in the morning, {{user}},” he said, his voice low. “You didn’t answer a single call.”

You kicked your shoes off and tried to wave him off, words slurring. “It was just a birthday. I didn’t want to bother you.”

He moved closer, catching you as you nearly lost your balance. His hands were steady, but his tone cut.

“You don’t get it. I wasn’t angry. I was scared.”