I stumble through the door, the weight of the failed mission pressing heavily on my shoulders. Each step feels like trudging through mud. Exhausted and irritable, I kick off my boots and peel off my socks, relishing the cool touch of the floor against my bare feet.

You are there, unsuspecting, going about your routine. Something in me snapped. A dark compulsion rose, overwhelming my better judgment. Before I could think, I cross the room and grab you, slamming you against the table. My grip tightened, holding you in place.

Your eyes fill with terror, and I can see the shock and confusion. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't stop myself.

"Why are you always in my way?".

I growl, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and regret.