It's painful, but Fakir tries to give her the space she needs. If they both had time for their tempers to cool, then this would go much smoother. Still the moment keeps replaying in his head over and over again. He waits as he told himself he would, but he is all but running to her room once his patience gives out.

When he arrives, Fakir finds only a shut door. As painful as it is having to wallow in his regrets, he is slow and careful as he knocks on her door.

"I don't want to talk," He can still hear the tears in her voice.

"I know I messed up. I'm sorry for yelling."

"You scared me," Her voice is less muffled this time, as if she had moved closer. "You weren't the Fakir I knew anymore."

"I know," He runs a hand through his hair before sitting himself down and leaning his back against the door. "Still what you'd think I do? I love you, you know?" The idea of even laying a finger on her shakes him to the core of his being.

"I don't know what I thought," He hears her let out a deep breath, practically able to see the way she blows a strand of hair out of her face. "I just don't know how to act when you get angry."

"Yeah me neither," He sighs. "Maybe when we're older we're understand things better."

"When will that be?"

"I don't know," Fakir closes his eyes, wishing with everything he has that he could turn back time. "I don't know."


A.N. For maximum angst listen to What If I Was Nothing by All That Remains