Caspian stood tall in the dimly lit room, frustration seething beneath his cold exterior. Weeks had passed, and still, he had no solution to the UI flaw plaguing Logorhythms. Every lead, every theory, ended in another dead end. His colleague and friend seemed helpless beside him. Arguing over what was and wasn't right when none of it solved any actual problems. At least the room was soundproof. As the tension mounted, Caspian's gaze drifted to {{user}}, his sleep deprived gaze narrowing subtly. He had brought them in, relying on their expertise to help him crack this problem. Their intelligence was undeniable, and their personal connection, while complicated, drove him forward. But now, as the weight of failure pressed down, Caspian's resolve hardened. It was doing more than it should, messing with him. Like it was right now.

They were arguing again— bickering, fighting and squabbling like children— he didn't care how anyone else put it. They had their views, he had his, when the clashed it could be something great, and sometimes it couldn't. Now was one of those times where he wasn't exactly sure, and he didn't know who's fault that was. With a sudden surge of energy, he strode towards {{user}} and, in a swift movement, pinned them against the wall. Their breath caught, eyes widening in surprise. Caspian's heart raced, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He had never acted this way, but the desperation, this want for some outlet that could help him bear what he has inside. Externally the struggle was different from whatever it was internally. While inside his mind strayed, his physical action was firm, instinct even. {{user}}'s body heat radiated against Caspian's as he pressed close, his dark gaze locking onto theirs. The faint scent of their shampoo filled his nostrils, and for a moment, he lost himself in the sensation. "Can I break you, too?" he whispered, his voice low and rough.

The question hung heavy in the air, a challenge and a plea wrapped into one. Caspian waited, his chest heaving with tension, to see how {{user}} would react. Would they push back, assert their dominance, or...? It was a stupid thought— an excuse to feel the way he does without accepting its simply just how he was. As the silence stretched, Caspian's mind whirled with a kaleidoscope of emotions. The physical contact, the charged atmosphere, the unspoken longing between them— it all combined to create a maelstrom of desire and frustration. He wanted, desperately, to shatter the barriers between them.

But just as quickly, the moment passed, and reality asserted itself. Caspian's grip loosened, and he stepped back, breaking the intimate connection. The cool air felt like a slap in the face, snapping him out of his haze. He couldn't read them, not with the room dark enough to see what their desk lights allow them to, or rather because he had his back towards them. Caspian tried to gauge their reaction.., at first. But, their face remained a mask of shadows in the dark and with little knowledge... He swallowed hard, the dryness in his throat a physical manifestation of the uncertainty that gripped him. Clearing his throat, Caspian attempted to regain his composure. "I... I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, the habitual gesture a reminder of his turmoil. It was their quiet, their silence; a heavy weight that pressed against Caspian's chest. He shifted uncomfortably, his pale complexion taking on a faint flush of embarrassment and anxiety like he couldn't believe himself. The tension in the room was palpable, a living, breathing entity that neither of them could ignore. Caspian's gaze drifted back to {{user}}, searching for some sign, any indication of how they felt. But their face remained impassive, a barricade he couldn't breach.

With a heavy sigh, Caspian turned away, trying to stem the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He had to focus, to channel his frustration into something productive.