A heated argument between two moody teenagers was like throwing gasoline on a fire—disastrous and inevitable. Rodrick couldn’t even recall what had sparked their fight last week; it was probably something trivial, as most of their arguments were. Yet, he regretted every single word he had spat out in the heat of the moment.

His brain had overheated with a toxic blend of anger and irritation, leading him to spew out a sentence he should never have uttered:

"Then let's just break up!"

The scene replayed in his mind like a nightmare on repeat. They were standing in his cluttered room, bathed in the harsh glow of a lone desk lamp. The walls, plastered with band posters and movie stills, seemed to close in on them. Your face, illuminated by the unforgiving light, showed a cascade of emotions—first shock, then hurt, and finally a fierce, burning anger. Your brows furrowed, creating deep lines of sorrow and rage, your lips pressed into a thin, tight line, and your eyes glistened with unshed tears.

He couldn't stand it. To wrap his arms around you and apologize in every language in the world.