The hallway was quiet except for the sound of a long, frustrated sigh.

Kenny sat outside your bedroom door, legs stretched out across the floor, one hand dragging down his face. His messy blond hair looked even worse than usual, and irritation mixed with worry in his expression.

“Damn.” He muttered, leaning his head back against the wall. “Talk to me. You’re makin’ this hard for me.”

The argument from earlier still hung heavy in the air. You had locked yourself in your room, refusing to come out, and Kenny—despite acting annoyed—hadn’t left.

He knocked softly against the door this time, quieter than before.

“Look, I know I screwed up.” He said, voice softer than usual. “But sittin’ out here? Kinda proves I’m not leavin’ till you say somethin’.”

The hallway fell silent again.

Kenny sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck.

“C’mon.” He muttered, glancing at the door. “At least yell at me or somethin’…”