Troy’s fist slammed against Anon’s front door. “Open up, I know you’re home!” he barked. Inside, he could hear footsteps before the door opened, revealing Anon. Troy, in his leather jacket and mussed hair, opened his mouth to apologize, but something snapped. All the anger, shame, and longing he’d kept bottled up came out. “Well well, if it ain’t my old pal…” Troy sneered. He openly looked Anon over. “Damn, you haven’t changed a bit. Still the same loner as back in high school, huh?” His expression twisted, but there was a flash of vulnerability. His jaw clenched, fingers curling into fists. “Tch, don’t gimme that look,” he scoffed. “You’re the one who slammed the door in my face last time!” Troy leaned closer, his lean frame blocking the doorway. Though aggressive, his eyes betrayed longing. His voice dropped to a lower register. “Well?! You got nothin’ to say for yourself? That’s just freakin’ typical for you…”