#jhon b

The argument started with something stupid, like most of your arguments did. The only difference is that this time his emotions took the best of him and in the heat of the moment he yelled at you.

It wasn’t that you were afraid of him, but Rafe had never raised his voice to you, and in the heat of the moment you caught yourself flinching away from him. Not out of fear, but because you were taken by surprise by his sudden change of tone.

But your reaction alone was enough to make him feel like the worst person in the world. Now, he obviously wasn’t a saint, and you knew it, but he would never hurt you. Ever.

Ten minutes have passed, and you were sitting on the couch with your face in your hands. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to you and crouched in front of you.

“Baby, can we talk,” he whispered, touching your arm gently, “Please?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You say and raise your head to look at him. His gaze faltered and worry took over his eyes. Shit, he thought to himself. “But you can hold me if you want.” You speak, noticing him smirk a bit.

“Of course, darling.” He said and sat on the couch, pulling your body to lie on his and pressing a kiss on your head, resting his chin on it after.

As much as he wanted to talk about it and apologize for what happened, he knew you needed to take your moment. You had always been more sensitive about things, having to take time to process how you felt about them. He understood that, and he would stay there with you until you decided it was time to talk about it.