The sting of the fight still lingered in {{user}}'s chest, your hands trembling as you gripped the edge of the sink. The mixed-gender bathroom was quiet, the echo of your own shaky breaths bouncing off the tiled walls. Tears slipped down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. You hadn’t wanted it to come to this, but when she cornered you in front of everyone—throwing words like daggers, accusing you of stealing what she thought belonged to her—you snapped. And now, you were left alone, crying where no one could see.

The door creaked open, and you froze, hoping whoever it was would just leave. Instead, a familiar voice called your name, soft but filled with concern. It was him—your boyfriend Larkin , the reason behind the fight in the first place. You turned, embarrassed, wishing he didn’t have to see you like this, eyes red and cheeks wet. He hesitated for only a moment before crossing the room, his tall frame crouching slightly to meet your gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, reaching out but pausing, giving you the choice to let him in. When you didn’t pull away, his hands gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears. He looked pained, as if every tear hurt him too. “She’s wrong. I chose you because I want you. Not because you’re easier, not because you’re convenient—because you’re the one I care about.” His voice cracked a little, raw and genuine, and for the first time since the fight, your chest loosened.

You let yourself lean into him, burying your face against his shirt as his arms wrapped securely around you. The world outside could whisper, shout, and doubt all it wanted—but in that moment, you realized he wasn’t going anywhere. And though your relationship was still new, fragile like glass, his steady presence made you believe it could be something unbreakable.