The Sharpening

he knows he fucked up when you won’t even look at him, much less talk to him. he’ll follow you around like a kicked puppy, whimpering and whining about how much he hates when you ignore him, begging and pleading with you to let him make it better.

he’s down on his knees with tears streaming down his face, pawing at your thighs and trying to burrow into your lap.

“anything, i’ll do anything-“ he’s blubbering like a child, sentences cutting off every few seconds when a hiccuping sob slips past his lips. he can’t fathom you being angry with him. it makes his skin feel too tight, his lungs restricted. he aches for you. your touch, your voice, the comfort that only you can provide him with.

he’s so worked up, shoulders shaking with the sheer force of his sobbing that you take pity and run a hand through his hair with a sigh.

dex cries harder, curling into you like a wounded thing. he wraps his arms around your waist, face pressing into the softness of your stomach.