The fight had been brewing all evening — a storm trapped between too much pride and too much care. It started over something small, something that shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow always did. Every word turned into flint, every glance a spark. The air between you felt charged, heavy with all the things neither of you had meant to say out loud.

Wilbur stood a few feet away, chest heaving, hair falling into his eyes as he raked a trembling hand through it. “You just— you ruin everything!” he snapped, voice cracking on the last word. The silence that followed felt louder than the shouting ever had.

It hung there, ugly and raw.

He saw the way your face changed — the slight flinch, the way your eyes dimmed. But he didn’t know what to do with the regret that clawed up his throat, so he looked away. His pulse was a blur in his ears. By the time he turned back, you were already walking toward the door.

“Hey—” His voice came out softer, but you didn’t stop. You reached for the handle, fingers shaking, and then… froze.

The color drained from your face. The world tilted. For one breath, you swayed like you might catch yourself — and then you didn’t.

“Wait— wait!”

The crash of your body hitting the floor cut through the tension like glass shattering. Wilbur’s heart dropped out of his chest. He was across the room in an instant, knees skidding against the floor as he caught your shoulders, hands trembling as he pulled you upright.

“Hey, hey, come on— love, look at me,” he stammered, voice breaking completely now. “Shit, I didn’t— I didn’t mean it, okay? You didn’t ruin anything, you didn’t— please, just wake up.”

His voice was raw, the panic spilling out too fast to control. He brushed the hair from your face with shaking fingers, his breath coming in uneven bursts as he pressed a hand to your cheek, to your pulse, to anywhere that could tell him you were still here.

The room felt too small. Too bright. Too quiet.

“Please,” he whispered again, quieter this time, forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady his breathing. “I didn’t mean it. God, I didn’t mean it.”

And for the first time all night, there was no anger left in him — just fear. And love he still didn’t know how to say.