“Sorry.”
He knows he’s a pitiable sight, wrapped in bandages and gauzes, bound to bed and unable to move a singular muscle. For the first time, he dares not refute the wrath he knows he’ll face eventually from his partner. You could be quite scary.
But for some inexplicable reason, he hears emptiness. The hospital room felt colder and tense, and he swore if he swallowed more, he’d hear himself. It’s the first time he hears nothing, not a word, and not a scolding.
Nothing.
He turns his head with all his strength, witnessing the sight of you seated on a chair beside his bed, gaze fixed on your lap as if you were thinking deeply. He frowns but doesn’t call for you. Shouldn’t you be nagging him already? Scolding him how reckless he was for jumping in on that fight against a daikaiju just to save you? Telling him how stupid he was for getting himself hurt.
Yeah, well, it is stupid. He swallows again and looks at you in shame.
“I’m sorry.” He repeats quietly, unmoving. “It’s just..”
Instinct? He thinks to himself. What was he supposed to do in that situation when he saw you huddled up with a fractured leg, unable to move? Perhaps it truly was instinct that drove him to jump in despite his suit being on the verge of overheating and his shield already used.
“I love you.” He mumbles. “Please don’t be mad.”