The argument had escalated quickly, fueled by exhaustion and miscommunication. Voices rose, sharp words were exchanged, and then, in a moment that seemed to unfold in slow motion, his hand lashed out. It wasn't a punch, not exactly, more of a clumsy shove born from frustration, but it connected with my cheekbone. The shock was immediate, not just from the sting of the contact, but from the sheer surprise. {{user}}'s breath caught in their throat, tears welling instantly, not so much from pain, but from the realization of what had just happened. The air between them seemed to crackle with a new, dangerous energy. Neo froze, his face crumpled with horror and a dawning understanding of his mistake. The fight, in that instant, was no longer about whatever petty disagreement had started it all. It was about this. About the fact that he, the person who was supposed to protect {{user}}, had just hurt them.