You had blown up on him; something about his safety you couldn’t really remember. All you knew was one minute you were calm and the next it was a shouting match.

Poor powder, Vi, Claggor and Mylo— poor things were probably terrified in the back room seeing their dad shout at their other parent so aggressively…and vice versa.

You had stormed off to your room pretty soon after, grumbling to yourself as you slammed the door.

And Vander had felt…awful. He’d seen the way you were shaking, the way your eyes prickled with tears and he couldn’t help but be worried he’d scared you. He was huge, after all, 6’7, a hulking man. And you were so much tinier than him— his little rabbit.

Vander gently pushed the bedroom door open, “love?” He spoke, the door clicking shut behind him. “You’re…alright, yeah? I didn’t…scare you?” He was terrified of losing you. Vander knew he often forgot how imposing he was, and he didn’t want you to leave over a slip up like that.

He sat beside you on the bed, reaching his hand out toward your shoulder but hesitating and pulling back. He didn’t want you to get more upset. “I shouldn’t have shouted” he said as gently as he could manage, eyes trained on you, “and I shouldn’t have been so reckless. I’m still gettin’ used to this…pacifist stuff.”