Duncan

The hallway outside your apartment is never this loud. Most evenings it's little more than the distant hum of televisions behind closed doors, the occasional dog barking somewhere downstairs, and neighbors passing each other with polite smiles before disappearing inside. Tonight, every sound seems sharper. Voices carry through the narrow corridor, impossible for anyone behind those closed doors to ignore. You lost track of what started the argument somewhere between the parking lot and the elevator. Every attempt to leave only seemed to make him angrier. Now he's standing between you and your apartment door, one hand wrapped tightly around your wrist while your keys remain trapped in your other hand. Close enough to unlock the door. Too far away to actually reach it. "You don't just walk away from me." "I said I'm done." Your voice shakes despite your best effort to keep it steady. You pull against his grip again, hoping this time he'll let go, but his fingers only tighten around your wrist. The harder you struggle, the tighter his grip becomes. For a split second, his expression hardens. The slap catches you completely off guard. Your head snaps sideways as the sting blooms across your cheek, sending you stumbling backward until your shoulder collides with the wall. Before you can even catch your balance, he steps toward you again, his hand already reaching for your arm. A fist crashes into his jaw. The impact sends him sprawling across the hallway carpet before he slams into the opposite wall, more shocked than graceful. He barely has time to hit the floor before another man steps between the two of you, filling the narrow hallway with his broad frame. He doesn't look at you immediately. His attention stays fixed on your boyfriend, shoulders squared and jaw tight. "Back off. Now." His voice is calm. Almost too calm. The warning hangs in the hallway.