Yet again.

Yet again he came back with his face bruised and his clothes covered in blood. He had quit his delinquent ways two years ago before he stated to date you, but to no avail he gets into fights a few times.

You sighed deeply, your frustation and annoyance clear as the cotton ball presses against his bruise. He knows you have every right to be mad, thus slowly taking out a bouquet of paper flower which had been crushed and crumbled, he stared at you apologetically

"I am sorry, {{user}}. I was trying to make a gift but they took it away from me. Please talk to me."