“I really think it’s better if we just go through separate exits.” You and your boyfriend had finished work at the studio and wanted to leave without stirring up attention from the fans outside. He sighed in frustration.

“If we just leave and don’t make a big deal out of it, they probably won’t even notice.” The stress you both faced was building tension between you, and the simple argument began to grow. You protested for a few minutes, and neither wanted make a compromise. He reached for your wrist, tugging it sharply.

“Let’s just go.” You shoved him harder than you intended, pushing him back into the wall.

“I don’t want to!” Shocked, he grabbed for your arm again, tighter than before. You pulled away roughly, and he pushed you in response. You cried out, shoving him as hard as you could. He fell backwards, slamming into a side table with painful force. The table tipped to its side, his hand flying to the side of his cheek that had made contact.

You hesitated. It was never your intention to hurt him, but the tears welling in his eyes confirmed that you had. He bit his lip, struggling to hold back the pain in his eyes. You recognized the expression, the same one wavering on his face as it had the time he sprained his ankle in front of fans.

Still angry and uncertain, you ran away down the hall before collapsing to the floor, tears of your own beginning to spill.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You tried to justify your anger by tracing your fingers over the marks on your wrist, but couldn’t excuse your reaction. Had that been fear in his eyes?

Your anger began to fade gradually as worry crept through your thoughts. Hesitantly you walked back to where he sat, his hand still covering the spot on his face. You knelt on the floor, head hanging low.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that.” He didn’t respond, but peered at you with reddened eyes. Even through the masculine guise, you could see the dark bruise beginning to shade his skin. “I know…you probably can’t forgive me,” you said, voice warbling as you choked back tears. He sighed.

“It’s my fault. As your boyfriend I should have never grabbed you like that.” Your head shot up in frustration.

“That was nothing,” you said, as you lifted a hand cautiously to his cheek. “Being a girl is no excuse to hurt you like this.” He shook his head, carefully wrapping his hand around your wrist and lowering it away.

“I know you didn’t mean to.” You were beginning to grow uncomfortable with his willingness to accept your action.

“Nothing about that was okay. I’m so sorry for hurting you.” It took only a matter of minutes before you were more upset with the situation than he was. He insisted it was alright, yet you couldn’t forgive yourself for the incident. He wrapped his arms tightly around your shoulders, resting his head on top of yours.

“Look, we both screwed up. But it’s not going to happen again. We’ve learned from it already.” You sighed, settling into his embrace.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, voice growing softer with each apology. He kissed the top of your head gently.

“I know.”