Karl was not the best boyfriend. He was distant, he worked more than he spent time with you, and he was horrible with anything remotely emotionally intimate. You spent a lot of your time in his factory alone, not bothering to interrupt him during his work. Today, you’d pushed through his workshop, teary eyed and limping. At first, he’d only stared. You expected little emotional comfort from him - you weren’t expecting to be scooped up into his arms.

“Hey, hey, who hurt you, buttercup?”