Arguments between you can Copia were thankfully few and far in between. However, you were still people, and you still had the tendency to disagree and squabble. You were two souls, raised differently, with different perspectives. (However, he still insisted you had one singular heart. You didn't mind that at all.)

It was insignificant in the long run, but of course, it was still upsetting. An apology was unexpected, though. It would pass, wouldn't it? The argument was partially your fault, anyway, and even if he'd hurt your feelings, surely it was justified.

Still, when you came back to his rooms at the end of the day, you were met with a strange sight. Takeout on the counter from your favorite restaurant, and a store-bought cake, as your love had very little affinity for baking. On the top, it was written in pink buttercream: I love you, angelino!

Your stomach churned, and you looked up. The food was warm, so he'd obviously gotten it recently. Looking around, you spotted him stepping out of the restroom, fixing his pants with a sheepish expression on his face. "There you are," he chirped, a fondness that hadn't been the case this morning clear in his voice, apologetic. "I'm sorry for earlier, {{user}}," he says, walking over to you, his hands slipping slowly around your waist for a moment before he pulled you into a warm hug. "I love you so much. It was wrong of me to raise my voice like that. I'll be better for you."

You didn't realize you were standing there, stiff, like a deer in headlights with an expression akin to that of a teenager completely lost during math class. He looks at you, and gently brushes your cheek. "Dolce?"

"I-... It was my fault, too. You don't have to apologize."

He only smiled at you. "But it was my fault too, {{user}}, and it's important to me that you know I care." He presses a soft, almost ticklish kiss to your cheek. "Don't look at me like I just dropped off from Mars, dolce. You're my world."