He didn't know how to ask for forgiveness. Or how to offer peace. Neither were within his skillset.
So he dropped to his knees with a thud so unlike his usual graceful and quiet movements. She had been staring ever since he appeared in her home, next to their bed. He came back as suddenly and and quickly as he had vanished, she let out a soft breath of surprise. His next movement led her to believe he wasn't himself, something not entirely him at all in the slightest. She wanted to stop him. She could not bear to see someone so full of pride on his knees, not for her. But she was frozen.
Their eyes hadn't left each other's gaze, both feared the other would disappear if they broke away. He still could not find his voice, or a will to get back up. His thoughts were as wild as his dirty clothes made him appear. The torrential winds in his thoughts didn't give him much room to argue or think of anything beyond finding his way back into her life.
All he knew was that she deserved more, better, all of it.
He caved.
He let his back slowly bend and his arms moved to the floor in front of him. His movement was fluid yet slow as his face slowly met the hardwood. His face felt warm and his stomach like acid, but he only cared for her acceptance and whatever shred of forgiveness she would toss his way. He stayed there until she got up and pried him off the floor.
