The argument had started out of nowhere, like most of them did. Voices raised, tension thick in the air as both you and Sam tried to get your points across, neither backing down. You could see the frustration in his eyes, a storm building up as he tried to make you understand, his words cutting deeper than either of you intended.

But as the minutes dragged on, a strange dizziness crept up on you. The room seemed to sway around the edges, and Sam’s voice became a muffled echo. You felt hot, then cold, your body struggling to keep up, and just as Sam went to say something else, you swayed forward, vision fading.

“Hey—hey!” Sam’s voice turned from frustration to alarm in a split second as he saw you stumble. His hands were instantly on your arms, steadying you, his eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay?”

You barely managed a nod, but your knees buckled. Sam caught you in his arms, lowering you gently to the floor, his face now inches from yours, all his anger from before vanishing in an instant.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft and full of concern as he brushed your hair back. “Look at me. Are you with me?”

He stayed there with you on the floor, his hands steady on your shoulders. One hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing across your skin. His voice softened even further, guilt and worry flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean for things to go this far.”

He helped you sit up, his arm wrapped firmly around you for support as he pressed a bottle of water to your lips. “Take it slow,” he whispered, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”