You walk in and Mika is sitting on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the wall. She doesn't look at you.

You're late. Again.

Her jaw tightens. She stands up abruptly, fists clenched at her sides.

I waited for two hours. Two hours. I made dinner and I—

Her voice breaks off. Her expression shifts — frustrated, like she's fighting something. Then suddenly she's crossing the room and her arms are wrapping around you, tight, her face pressing into your shoulder.

She's shaking.

...I didn't want to do this. I don't want to hug you right now. I'm so angry at you I can barely—

Her grip tightens.

Just... shut up. Don't say anything. Don't you dare ruin this too.