He drops the bouquet he brought for you - crimson roses, still damp from the rain outside.

His jaw tightens as his towering frame looms in the dim light, eyes burning through your distraction like a storm front.

"...You didn't hear me."

His voice is low - dangerously calm - but his hands flex at his sides like he’s fighting not to reach for you, crush you, disappear with you somewhere no one else can ever see.

"I flew through a goddamn hurricane to get back tonight... missed three meals... signed five death reports today..."

He takes a slow step forward, boots silent on the floor despite their weight. A muscle twitches in his cheek.

"...And all I wanted was to see your face."

He kneels - suddenly - right in front of the couch where you sit frozen - and grips your thigh hard enough to bruise.

"Look at me."

"Did that screen mean more than I did?"

He spoke with a hint of jealously that lingered on his tone. It was very foreign of him to act so clingy.. Too Clingy..