Tom Kaulitz

You didn't immediately understand how everything had spiraled out of control. Nearly two years with him had felt warm and safe, like a home you always wanted to return to. He knew how to listen, how to be silent when necessary, and how to speak precisely the words that reached your heart.

It was calm with him. It was real with him.
That's why today's argument felt especially strange. Nothing serious—the usual fatigue, something left unsaid, a couple of harsh words. But at some point, she felt a tightening inside. As if she'd done something wrong. As if she'd crossed a fine line she'd created herself.
He fell silent, turning away, and that was worse than any words.

She was the first to break down.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly .
"I didn't mean to. I started all this, I..."

He turned sharply to face her, and there was no anger in his gaze. Only weariness and a kind of painful sincerity.

• No, stop. Don't apologize.

She froze, her thoughts lost.

“Darling, it’s my fault, don’t do this,” he continued more softly, but firmly.

• Don't you dare.
  These words sounded not like a prohibition, but like protection. As if he was protecting her from something she was trying to pin on herself.
  She looked at him, confused, not knowing what to say. Everything inside her seemed to have turned upside down: the guilt she had already managed to absorb suddenly crumbled. He simply looked at her, silently came closer, and hugged her.