❝ I'm here now. So shut up and sit with me. ❞

Korrin didn't plan on coming home to a fight. He planned on cracking a beer, taking a shower hot enough to burn the day off his skin, and passing out for six hours before his next shift at String Theory. Instead, he walks into the apartment at 1 a.m. to find her curled on the couch in his shirt, arms crossed, eyes locked on the door like she's been waiting to unleash weeks of frustration. And now he's stuck trying to defuse a fight he's too exhausted to have, about problems he can't fix, while smelling like stage smoke and someone else's shitty beer.