ϟ 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 ϟ

Bad Day

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A/N: You're married to Theo, living in a nice house and he has a job :)

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You were on one of the recliners, relaxing and reading a book when the front door was opened. You turned to look over your shoulder and saw Theodore walk through it, and you smiled.

That smile, however, faded once you realized that he was absolutely livid. The sheer anger rolled off of him in potent waves that would send anyone running the opposite direction.

He could be a very intimidating man, though you always saw it as a good thing. He was a protector. He warded away any ill-mannered person, and you'd never not be thankful for it.

He unintentionally slammed the door shut, dropped his things by the recliner you sat on as he walked past, and sat on the sofa with his head in his hands as he let his elbows dig into his knees.

You gingerly closed the book you were holding as you watched him drag his fingers through his dark hair, glaring at the floor with a look that could send shivers up anyone's spine.

Anyone but you.

You never got scared of the angry side of Theo; you always felt yourself get sad for him, because he seemed so distressed whenever he was angry. You always comforted him, and he always leaned into you for your comfort. He never took it out on you, never yelled at you.

He always wanted to break something when he was angry, but always used up almost all of his energy to restrain himself, which nearly killed him with fatigue afterward.

However, when he became fatigued, that boiling anger still lurked in the shadows and was easily summoned if something went awry.

It always seemed to easily melt away, though, whenever you touched him - or even so much as smiled at him. You were the light in his shroud of darkness.

You set the book on the recliner as you stood, and padded over to where Theodore sat, his hands covering the lower half of his face. His eyes were darkened with fury and exhaustion, and you wanted nothing more than to melt it all away.

You intended to do just that.

You sat next to him, as you always did, and he glanced at you, the anger that hardened his face softening into plain fatigue as his eyelids grew heavy. You rubbed a hand across his tense shoulders, back and forth.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked softly, the sound of your almost melodic voice simmering his boiling blood.

He only shook his head, leaning toward you and resting his head on your shoulder, in the crevice where your neck and shoulder met.

Your arms instinctively snaked around his body, your fingers finding their way into his soft, curly hair. You felt the tension in his body melt as you did so, and he sighed into your skin.

You just sat there for several minutes, letting him bask in your comforting warmth. "Would you like some tea?" you whispered.

"That sounds nice," his muffled voice spoke, before he raised his head.

"Alright," you replied, pressing a quick kiss to his lips with a warm smile.

You stood up and let your hand slide across his broad shoulders as you walked around the couch toward the kitchen.

You took several minutes to prepare the tea that you both shared a liking for, before pouring it into two cups. You grabbed one in each hand and headed back to the living room.

Once you entered the room, you saw him hunched over on the couch with his head in his hands, fingers painfully gripping his hair. His shoulders were subtly heaving, and you could tell he was silently crying.

You briskly walked over, placing the two cups on the coffee table before sitting next to him and holding him tightly.

He immediately melted into you and vented about his terrible day at work between frustrated sobs; terrible people fucking with him at his job, making mistakes that hindered his work, running into jackasses on the way home, and some other mishaps that went almost incoherent between his muddled cries.

Today just wasn't his day.

You did nothing but listen and thread your fingers through his hair again, slightly rocking back and forth as he held onto you. You whispered into his ear how much you loved him, how you were here for him, how special he was, among other sweet things that helped soothe his nerves.

Once he was quiet and his breathing relatively calm, you leaned back a little, holding his reddened face delicately in your hands. You wiped the wet tear tracks weaving between his freckles with the sleeve of your soft sweater, and he breathed in your signature scent that was interwoven into the threads of the fabric.

You leaned forward and kissed the mole on his left cheek, you kissed his brows, his nose, before finally placing a tender kiss to his lips. You remained there for several seconds, his hands grasping yours as they were still planted on the sides of his face.

Once you pulled away, he quietly spoke. "What the hell would I do without you..?"

You brushed a manicured thumb across his cheekbone. "You wouldn't be having the best damn tea you've ever had, that's for sure," you cheekily replied, earning a small chuckle from him.

He leaned over to grab the teacups from the table and handed one to you before taking a sip of his, letting out a content sigh. "I'd go through a hundred bad days if it means I can come home to this every day."

You couldn't help the wide smile that formed at his words before you took a sip of your tea.

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