You and Holger had officially been married for three years. Before that you had been dating since you were both sixteen years old. You welcomed a daughter into the world a few years ago; she was now three. You and Holger had never really had arguments in your relationship. Sure, there were disagreements but that came with being in a relationship with someone.

However, recently, you two had been getting into bigger and bigger arguments. It started out small: not putting away the dishes or leaving dirty clothes on the ground. Then before you knew it, you two were screaming at each other at the top of your lungs. You were both under stress as working parents and small things amassed into battles.

His teammates and your coworkers noticed, though no one said anything about your crumbling relationship. They did, however, drop hints that they knew about the altercations. You and Holger isolated yourselves from the rest of the world.

The fighting had never reached a physical stage, until one night. You had just finished a twelve hour shift and came home to a messy house with Holger lounging on the couch, playing FIFA. "What happened in here?" you asked, staring at your surroundings.

"What do you mean what happened?"

"I mean that this house is an absolute pig sty, Holger!"

"That's how it always is," he replied, focusing on his game.

"Except for the minute detail that I spent all yesterday cleaning up your mess!"

"I never asked you to do that," he retorted.

"Well would you rather suffocate from the noxious fumes? Or drown in dirty clothes?" you shot back, motioning to his work bag. "When was the last time you allowed your stuff to air out?"

"About two weeks ago, why?"

"Because I can smell it from twenty feet away!"

"Well then, just set it outside," Holger brushed you off.

"It's your stuff, Holger. I'm not your mother or your maid!" Holger became immersed even more into his game, and ignored you. "Holger!" No response. "Holger Badstuber!" No response. You had reached the final straw. Your face grew red from anger as you stomped over to the TV. Pulling the plug from the outlet, your husband's game shut off.

"What the hell! I was in the middle of something!" Holger shouted.

"I was talking to you," you replied. "And you weren't listening to me because of this stupid game!"

"Well sorry. Last time I checked the game doesn't nag me to pick up my socks or to do the dishes every single second of the day!"

"I don't nag you!"

"What would you call it? Forceful suggesting?" Holger replied sarcastically.

"If you hadn't noticed we have a daughter that is about yay tall. How do you expect her to walk around the house if she can't even see over the mountain of dirty clothes in the living room?"

"I was going to clean it up!" Holger defended.

"When? Next year?"

"All you ever do is talk to me about what I do wrong! You point out every single little insignificant flaw and turn it into a major offence!"

"I only asked you to pick up your dirty clothes for God's sakes!" you shouted. The arguing and yelling continued, things getting more heated by the second. You both stood on opposite sides of the coffee table, screaming at the top of your lungs at each other. At this point, you had forgotten about what the original argument had been about.

"I don't understand why you can't just back off!" Holger shouted at you, slamming his fist onto the coffee table.

"Don't hurt mommy!" a wail sounded from the staircase. You and Holger snapped to see your upset daughter standing at the base of the staircase. Tears in her eyes, she attached herself to your leg, her tears wetting your jeans. "Don't hurt mommy," she repeated. She allowed you to pick her up. You shushed her and bounced her slightly as she cried into the crook of your neck.

Holger's eyes held regret and he straightened slowly. Walking carefully towards you and your daughter, he extended his hand. The moment his hand gently touched your daughter's back, she recoiled. "Don't hurt mommy!" she cried again. Holger immediately retracted his hand, remorse written all over his features. You stared at him for a second before walking upstairs, your daughter still in your arms.

Sitting quietly on your bed, you consoled your daughter enough for her to release her iron grip around your neck. "It's okay baby," you cooed.

"Daddy was going to hurt you," she sniffled.

"He would never do that," you replied instantly.

"But he was so angry. And you were both yelling so loudly, mommy," she stated.

"We were just disagreeing over stupid stuff," you sighed.

"I was scared," she admitted.

"(Y/D/N), I want you to know now and forever that your father would never ever lay a hand on me or you. He would never hurt us. We were both just angry. We weren't in the right state of mind," you responded. She was soothed to sleep. Tucking her into the covers of you and Holger's shared bed, you walked downstairs. Looking towards the living room, you saw Holger.

His head was in his hands and he was visibly shaking. You walked over to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. His neck snapped towards you, his eyes visibly red. "I almost hurt you," he muttered.

"You would never do that," you assured.

"But I let the anger get the best of me. I was stupid. I should have controlled my temper."

"We're both to blame," you stated.

"What are we even fighting about anymore? Laundry? How pathetic," he spat.

"I'm sorry," you sighed.

"I'm sorry too. I should pick up my laundry," Holger replied.

"And I shouldn't nag you," you responded. Pulling him into a hug, you held tightly onto your husband. Your reconciliation with each other was long awaited for the both of you.

"Is (Y/D/N) okay?" Holger pulled away.

"Just a little shaken up."

"I'm a horrible father," Holger sighed.

"No you're not," you stated. Standing up, you pulled your husband up to your bedroom. Your daughter was still peacefully asleep. You ran to the closet, changing into your pajamas. Holger did so also. Standing at the foot of the bed, Holger watched you as you slid under the covers, your daughter instantly curling up into your side.

Cautiously pulling up the other side of the covers, Holger slid into bed, careful about not touching your daughter. You smiled and gently pushed your daughters sleeping form towards her father. She curled up into his side, making Holger stiffen before relaxing fully. He gently rubbed her back. "Daddy loves you, never forget that. He's stupid at times but he always loves you," Holger whispered to her.

"I know," she whispered back, not asleep as you had originally thought.

"Good night baby girl."

"Night daddy," your daughter yawned, using your husband's chest as a pillow.