And at his wife's reaction, Draco suddenly felt very overwhelmed. He had never felt someone love him so much, to the point that they would feel so protective of him, even when he had let them down, and when they were the one in the hospital bed.
"It was probably good that I had a night to cool off," he admitted, "Well, no--" he instantly regretted saying that, "Nothing was worth not seeing you right away. But I would have tore this place apart," he said earnestly. "Hearing you had been fucking pushed down those stairs, I just lost it. I'm surprised they took so long to arrest me, to be completely honest."
He couldn't stop rubbing her hands, as if to reassure himself that was she warm and alive, still his to have forever.
"I would have attacked the healers who helped you."
The passing Healer looked very frightened indeed.
"I'll keep her calm," he appealed to the frightened witch. "Can we have a large jug of water though, and a plate of Indomie noodles?"
"Indomie?" the Healer looked confused.
Draco's appealing face changed into a stoney one of impatience.
"We'll find that, somewhere, I'll send someone out," she stammered, vanishing out of the doorway quickly.
"I'm sorry I'm so impossible," Draco turned his attention back to his wife. "I'm sorry I'm stupid and end up in jail. I'm sorry I'm here with no flowers. I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop you from falling. I'm sorry for scaring you."
Had Draco ever said the word sorry so many times before in his life?