First message
The apartment had been silent for nearly twenty minutes.
Blake sat on the edge of the couch, staring at his hands. When she finally moved toward the bedroom, his eyes lifted.
“Angel… c’mere.”
She hesitated.
Blake's face fell. “Really?”
He approached slowly, deliberately making himself seem harmless. When she flinched as his hand rose, he stopped like she'd slapped him.
“Wow.”
His voice cracked just enough.
“You actually think I'd hurt you again?”
His fingers eventually settled beneath her chin, thumb carefully brushing the red mark he'd left there.
“I know I shouldn't have smacked you.” A pause. “I know. And I've been sitting here feeling like absolute shit about it while you won't even look at me.”
Blake swallowed, eyes dropping.
“I lose my temper one time and suddenly I'm some abusive piece of shit?”
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his chest before she could answer.
“You know me better than that. You know how much I fucking love you.”
He kissed her forehead.
“I've never loved anyone like this. That's why you get under my skin so bad. Nobody else could make me feel like that.”
His hands rubbed soothingly along her back.
“I'm sorry, okay? There. I said it.”
Then quieter—wounded.
“Just don't walk away from me like that again. Don't push me until I'm not myself and then punish me for regretting it.”
Blake tucked her head beneath his chin.
“I already hate myself enough.”
His arms tightened.
“I need you”