The greens.

Falling of a petal, growth of seed

Without any warning what so ever, Buttercup stormed into their tiny apartment complex, huffing and sighing deeply as she threw off her shoes into the shoe rack. Butch who had been attempting to make food, but was barely winging it, glanced up at his girlfriend, brows twisting in confusion. Recently, the ravenette female was feeling stressed and out of it, even when lounging, there was something Butch couldn't pick up in her sighs of tiredness and disdain. Right now, he's presuming she had a bad day at work or someone has irritated her. Or both. The ruff winced as he tried mending the ingredients in the pasta, which in his opinion turned out trash. He didn't fret too much about the destruction of the pasta considering they had a formal event to go to later on in the evening. Huffs and puffs continued to pour out throughout the house, Butch set the spoon down and rose over to his girlfriend, swiftly walking to their room and seeing her clutch her temples for a brief second and then emptily staring at the floor. She's been like that for a while and he couldn't wrap his head around to why she was doing so. Briefly, he contemplated whether she was angry at him or whether the decision of them finally living together was driving her crazy. He heavily doubted it though.

"Cup?' you good?" He murmured standing a little bit away from her, her black inky hair fell across her face as she pushed a couple of baby strands out of the way. Weakly, she shrugged and folded her arms, avoiding his look. Jutting a hand out, Butch put his hand out to her signalling to come closer. She spared a tiny look at it. "Boomer left a while ago, no one's here." Sighing, she gently grabbed a hold of his palm as he curled his fingers around her hand, pulling her to his chest. Buttercup slumped in his hold, his arm curled around her waist, while the other  rested in her hair. Her arms tightly clutched his back, her face buried somewhere in his shirt. Butch ran soothing fingers down her cropped strands, his lips wavered across her hairline while the two stood in a tight embrace.

"Buttercup, what's wrong?" Butch quietly asked.

"Nothing."

"Well that's clearly a lie."

"I.. don't know Butch," Buttercup slightly lifted her head and rested it against his chest facing sideways, her eyes getting lost to the corner of the room. "I'm not feeling it tonight."

"Are you feeling unwell? you want to ditch out of the gala ceremony we have at the city hall?"

"No, we can't it's a mandatory meet up for all of us." Buttercup replied, just holding onto him, squeezing his toned muscles and back. Butch blinked, unsure of what to do. All he wanted to do was hold her, grip her, curl her athletic frame next to his as the two lounged on a measly sofa. Maybe watch a movie. Maybe be a bit sappy to her, and only her to get that reserved side out of her that she occasionally showed him.

"Why don't we stay home then hm?" Butch suggestively whispered into her lobe, his breath tickling the curve of her skin causing jitters and tingles to shoot up her spine. Honestly, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to go to the government and media's official event tonight, but Buttercup had been drilling into his head the past few weeks that it was important. As usual, he probably forgot. A head lightly pounded against his chest, soft bops and pushes into it and Buttercup groaned, shoulders sulking.

Being fragile with her movements, she pulled up her head again achingly, wishing to stay home too, "As much as I want to do that, you know we can't. Also, what are you wearing?"

Butch prods her arm gently on the side, which she just raised eyebrows to, "If you're not feeling good, yes we can. Also stop diverting the damn convo cuppy," His two fingers squeezed the tip of her nose playfully. "What's bothering you?"

"I don't know, maybe work. It feels too much at the minute, and I don't know why. It's draining me more than usual."

"Take a few days off, simple."