No it won't.
He's calmer now, and needs to blow off some steam and energy. His eyes go blank, and telekinesis and violet magical light flare out from him. Time bends to let him to more things seemingly at once.
Repairs are transmuted into place, dust is transformed into the raw materials to patch things up, a gust of wind sweeps the rest out the door. Things crawl, click and slam back together, everything in its place, until the house looks precisely the way it did in Cait's fondest memories of it.
And you are mine.
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