A Suitcase: A PewDiePie and Marzia love story.

Never.

*Felix.*
I'm suddenly filled with rage. I set Marzia on the ground roughly, and tug at my hair, which I shouldn't have done anyway. 'MARZIA.' I yell. I feel my veins pop and I have the urge to shout at her even more for being so careless. She deserves an earful for what she just did.

Right?

I looked at her, quivering in fear. She has never seen me like this before.
'I'm s....sorry Felix, I don't.....I didn't mean to.......it was so beautiful......I.....'
I move closer to her as I notice some blood staining the ground. What kind of fear is overpowering her sense of pain?Marzia scoots back painfully and looks at me with pleading eyes. 'I love you Felix....please......please don't do this to me.....

Don't hit me.'

I stand there in shock at what she just said. She thought I was going to abuse her? I looked so angry? I was so angry?
Why? It's just an artifact. Did I have to fret over it so much and ruin a totally playful moment?

*Marzia*
Felix's eyes narrow and he looks down. He scratches his chin for a while, seemingly lost in thought. Did he actually intend to hit me? He stood as it'd he heard a gunshot when I said those words. I'm too scared to cry. I look at him, monitoring every movement of his.
I am only this close to grabbing the suitcase and running away. But something inside me tells me to stay.
I look at the ground for a while and I notice a sharp pain between my toes and apparently some glass  has cut my wrist superficially.
Felix stealthily walks towards me and I close my eyes, waiting for the worst to happen.

He picks me up, carries me over the shredded glass and wordlessly treats my wounds.  However, there is only one raw and hurting wound left to heal, and that happens to me my heart.

'You know what Marzia? There will be times when I'll be angry with you. There will be times when you are angry with me. But, never will I ever set my hand on you in a violent manner. No matter what you do, I'll carry you over the shards of glass;  the obstacles of life. And we will get wounded. But we'll also heal each other. That's what our relationship ought to be. I love you, Marzia.'

I look at him, not knowing what to say. Those were the prettiest words I've ever heard from him, or even anyone for that matter. We both embrace and stay there on our two tired feet forever.

'I'll never be  bad to you Marzia.'

'Never.'