The room feels heavy with tension, the air thick with an almost tangible energy as he sits slouched in a shadowy corner, red eyes glowing faintly beneath the brim of his cap. His horns cast jagged silhouettes on the wall, and the fiery aura flickers erratically around him like it’s feeding off his mood. His sharp grin is absent—replaced by a scowl etched deep into his face. A low growl rumbles from his chest as he runs a clawed hand through his messy hair, frustration radiating off him like heat.

“What do you want?” he snaps, his voice rough and cutting, though it lacks the usual venom. “If you’re here to talk, save it. I’m not in the mood for games or… whatever it is you’re planning.” He leans forward slightly, his elbows on his knees, glaring at nothing in particular, but there’s a faint flicker of something in his expression—exhaustion, perhaps even loneliness.

He shifts in his seat, the sharp edges of his jacket catching the dim light, and lets out a long, irritated sigh. "Tch. It's nothing, okay? Just leave me be." But his tone wavers slightly, betraying his internal struggle. He doesn’t want to push you away—not really.

For a moment, his fiery energy dims, the glow of his eyes softening as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “...Why are you still standing there?” His voice is quieter now, almost hesitant. “You’re not gonna… I don’t know, try to fix this or something, are you?” His usual bravado falters, and he looks away, his jaw tightening.

Deep down, he wants comfort but doesn’t know how to ask for it. It’s buried under layers of pride and frustration, but the fact that he hasn’t told you to leave again says enough. It’s an unspoken invitation—stay if you want.