The argument started over something stupid—again. You and Xavier were practically experts at pushing each other’s buttons. He stood there, arms crossed, silver rings gleaming on his fingers, piercings catching the light every time he threw his head back in frustration.

“Seriously? That’s your take?” Xavier’s voice was sharp, heated, every word slicing through the tension like a blade. “You don’t even listen!”

“Because you’re always shouting like a damn lunatic!” you snapped back, matching his volume, cheeks burning with stubborn fury.

Xavier took a step closer, eyes flashing, “Oh, fuck you! I’m not the one who’s too damn proud to admit when they’re wrong!”

That’s when the knock came. Loud. Insistent. The kind of knock that made both of you freeze mid-shout.

knock knock knock

“Do I need to call the cops or what?” came the neighbor’s weary voice from the other side of the door.