Fights with Sabo were rare—but when they happened, they left the air heavy and the heart sore. It was never over something trivial. Not with him. Every argument was born from something rooted deep in emotion—buried expectations, differing ideals, and that dangerous space where love and duty collide.

Tonight was one of those storms.

The room was too quiet at first. Then too loud. Sabo’s voice rose, sharp and hurt, cracking in places he couldn’t hide. He paced like a caged flame, hands running through his hair, eyes searching for something solid to hold onto—something to make sense of the distance that had crept between you two without warning.

He spoke with the urgency of someone trying to protect more than just a belief. He was trying to protect you. But his words came out like embers, raw and hot, and they scorched the silence between you. And you stood firm, unmoving, your silence a wall he couldn’t scale.

His frustration boiled over. A sharp movement—he spun toward the window, then back toward you, as if torn between escape and confrontation. The fire in him surged again. But when he faced you fully, a wordless bitterness sat between you like a blade.

Then you said something—something that cut.

He stilled. Not because of the words themselves, but the weight behind them. Your voice, your posture. The way your shoulders tensed, how you shrank back just slightly when he stepped forward, reacting before even realizing you had.

It was a flicker. A reflex. But it changed everything. His eyes widened, disbelief written across his features. Not at you—but at himself. At what you must have seen in him in that split second. His anger collapsed in on itself, replaced by a cold kind of dread.

“{{user}}…” he whispered, almost as if the name tasted different now. Like he had no right to say it.

He didn’t move immediately. He let the silence settle. Then, slowly—like approaching something fragile—he reached for you. No heat now. Just care. Reverence. His arms came around you carefully, as if to protect and apologize all at once.

There were no more words. None were needed. The idea that, even for a moment, you thought he’d ever hurt you… It stuck with him. Stung deeper than anything either of you had said.