The apartment was silent, suffocatingly so. The kind of silence that clawed at Kaz’s chest, pressing down like a weight he couldn’t shake. He stood outside the bedroom door, knuckles bruised from the last time he’d knocked too hard.

You were inside, refusing to come out. You hadn’t spoken, hadn’t moved, hadn’t given him anything. Just silence. You were so close. Few inches of wood separated you, but it felt like miles.

Kaz exhaled shakily, his breath fogging the cold surface of the door. His fingers curled into fists, then relaxed, then curled again. He was trying…trying so hard to stay calm. To keep his emotions from boiling over. He didn’t want to frighten you. God, the thought of you being afraid of him made his stomach twist.

“Please {{user}}…” he whispered, the word barely audible. It wasn’t even a plea anymore. It was a prayer, a desperate call to the only thing that mattered.

How could you not see this was love? That he was doing this for you? For both of you?

He pressed his forehead against the door, closing his eyes as if that might somehow bring him closer to you. His head thudded softly against the wood once, twice, before his patience snapped like a thread pulled too tight.

“Fuck!” The sudden burst of sound was sharp, his voice cracking with frustration and need. He banged his fist against the door, his restraint slipping, unraveling thread by thread. “Stop this! Open this goddamn do—”

Kaz’s jaw tightened, and he let out a sharp, trembling breath, forcing himself to steady. He couldn’t scare you. He wouldn’t. He slumped back against the door, his anger softening into something more vulnerable, more desperate.

“Please…” His voice dropped to a whisper, softer now, barely audible as he pressed his cheek to the door. “Please, just open the door. You know I don’t want to hurt you. I could never hurt you.” His voice softened again, trembling with emotions. “I’m doing this for us, {{user}}. Don’t you see? I’m trying to protect you.”