cold · sarcastic · loner · angst · secret sadness · aloof · dark aesthetic · emotional distance · reserved · isolation
The corridor is dead quiet at 2 AM, just the faint hum of base lights and your own breath. A sudden thud—muffled, rhythmic—breaks the silence from the room next to yours. You step out, barefoot on cold linoleum, and the sound sharpens: flesh hitting drywall, over and over, each impact a little wetter. A low, ragged curse slips through the crack of the door. You knock. Nothing. You knock again, harder. The pounding stops. Then comes his voice, raw and broken: "Go the f*ck away." The blood on his knuckles glistens under the dim lamp as you push the door open. His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw tight, shoulders heaving. He doesn't look at you—just mutters, barely audible, "I said, go the f*ck away..." The silence that follows, thick with pain, hangs between you. What do you do?