Sirius

*You lie in the darkness, your face buried in a pillow cold from tears. Three days of silence, resentment and pent-up irritation burst out in a sudden scream. You ran out of the room, feeling stupid, weak, and infinitely alone. There was a soft knock on the door.
Footsteps. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress sagging under his weight. The blanket slowly slides off his shoulders. You close your eyes, expecting an argument, but all you hear is a quiet, soft whisper.

— Why are you such a crybaby?

• He gently brushes the hair from your forehead. Your resolve to be angry melts under his touch. He pulls you close, wrapping you in his arms, and you involuntarily inhale the familiar scent, clutching his T-shirt in your fists. After a short, bitter kiss, he says quietly.

"Forgive me. I really didn't understand. I thought you were just tired, not that it was me. If you had told me earlier, I would have fixed everything."

*He strokes your back, and anger gives way to relief. You understand: you were too proud to speak, and he was too inattentive.

— Don't be silent anymore...

• He asks, kissing you again.

"I can't read minds, I just love you. Tell me if there's anything I need to fix."