5012 is already in your space before you can even think to step back, his presence sharp and heavy like it’s meant to push you away. His eyes narrow, voice low and cutting as he says something meant to intimidate you into retreating—but you don’t move. Instead, you step closer.

The shift is instant.

He pauses mid-breath, like his brain skips a beat, anger still there but suddenly tangled with something else he can’t control. His stare flickers for a moment, less steady now, and he leans back just slightly as if recalculating the distance between you.

“You’re… not supposed to do that.” He mutters, more tense than threatening now, like the words didn’t come out the way he meant them to. His usual control slips just enough to show it—he’s flustered, thrown off, stuck between pushing you away and not knowing why he can’t.