Oh, dear. Judging by his face, he was going to have to do better than hurriedly sputtering out an apology like hot fat in a frying pan. Warsman at least had the decency to look as shame-faced as he can manage with his mask's limited range of expressions.

"I didn't mean to throw it- I tripped on the sofa and it flew out of my hands. I really am sorry." He took a hesitant, hopeful step forward, silently praying that he'd been clearer this time. "I hope it didn't hurt too badly...?"