The door slammed shut, the sound reverberating through the room like a clap of thunder. Katsuki stood with his back to you, his shoulders heaving with every labored breath.

“You think you were helping?” he spat, his voice sharp, cracking at the edges. He finally turned to face you, his crimson eyes blazing with anger and something deeper—something he’d never admit. “You just made it worse.”

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged animal. “Damn it,” he muttered, his voice dropping lower. “Why do you always have to push? Why can’t you just let me handle things my way?”

His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. “You don’t get it, do you? If I let you in—if I let you help—then what the hell does that make me?”

His words hung heavy in the air, his breathing harsh as he looked anywhere but at you. “Weak,” he answered himself finally, almost like he hated the sound of the word. “Needing you makes me weak. And I can’t—” He shook his head violently, his voice breaking. “—I can’t afford to be weak. Not now. Not ever.”

He paused, his gaze finally meeting yours. The fire in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “I don’t even know why you put up with me. Why you’d even want to.”

He turned away again, his voice softer now but no less jagged. “...Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe you’d be better off not doing so.”

The silence stretched between you, suffocating and heavy. Katsuki stood there, his back to you, his hands trembling at his sides.

He didn’t move, didn’t say another word. Almost like he wanted you to reach out first, but he thought that'd be selfish of him to wish for something as such.

He wanted you to push him away, to get out of his life and find someone better for your perfect self. And maybe that day had finally come.