Requested by: RxsskxInR0me Hope you like it!
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You sigh as you finally finish cleaning the kitchen. You had hosted a lunch for the wives on your block, and underestimated the amount of time it would take for you to clean the mess. You had planned on getting more things done before your husband, Samuel, returned home, however you weren't able to make it to those chores. As you are putting away the cleaning supplies, you hear keys jingling as your husband opens the door, finally coming home.
You didn't much care for your husbands 'extra curriculars.' Especially since it got in the way of your social standing with the wives on your street. They all looked down on you, as though you were some insane woman. That of course is why you hosted the lunch this afternoon, to show the wives that your husbands beliefs did not reflect your own.
Samuel finally got the door open and your hear him kick the dirt from his shoes. "Good evening, love. How was your day?" You knew he was only asking so that he could tell you of his day. You weren't sure if you had the energy to listen to him talk, but you immediately find it when he walks into dining room, smiling. You smile back and sit down at the table.
"It was good. A few women from the block came over for lunch." Samuel walks behind you and runs his hands over your shoulders, gently squeezing them. You hum, not realizing how tense you had been.
"What did you talk about?" Samuel starts massaging your shoulders, and you almost hesitate to answer. You knew what his political beliefs were, and he knew what yours were. Sometimes you both could talk about it with relatively no fuss, however, often times you could not. You opt to tell the truth, knowing that the discussion would smoothly transfer to what he was doing today.
"We were talking about the prospect of a revolution. We're all worried that our husbands may be drafted, or may opt to join the war. Of course it would be a huge honor to be able to say that our husbands are fighting for our free-"
"(Y/N), knock it off. It's not honorable to fight the hand that feeds you." Samuels hands leave your shoulders as he goes and sits next to you. You frown and cross your arms.
"Have you even considered that you may need to go to war?" You snap. Samuel looks at you surprised, almost upset, as he thinks about how to answer. You keep your gaze on him, wanting him to answer. Finally, he sighs.
"Of course I have, I'm not going to ignore the reality of what may happen just because I'd rather it not happen." His voice begins losing motivation and energy, and you start to feel bad. But then, you think back to the conversation that had taken place during lunch, and your sympathy leaves your mind.
"Then why not act like it? You know the neighbors think we're crazy. But you can escape their glares and their snarky comments. I can't! I have to listen to it everyday... they think I've married a crazy man!" The more you talk, the angrier you get. You hadn't realized how much this had been eating at you until now.
"Just ignore the neighbors! Who cares what they think, you know who I am, I know who I am. Why do you need me to explain this to you, you're a smart woman, you know this already!" Samuel sprinkles in the compliment, both to try and ease the tension and to prove that despite your current argument, he still respected you. You go silent, and Samuel gets up. He goes to the kitchen while you sit and think, trying to calm yourself down. A few minutes go by before Samuel comes back, placing a cup of tea in front of you before sitting down with his own cup.
"I just think that you're spending too much time fighting this battle. I mean, you spend three hours a day trying to convince men in this city not to go to war, when you could be working, making us more money. The more the revolution talk goes on... the more I want us to finally start a family... and... and we'd be able to if we had the money..." You trail off, staring down at your tea. Again, silence fills the room, this time Samuel taking his time to think.
