Copia & Papa Emeritus IV Shorts

He forgets your anniversary

(Ok this is not short...but i dont care ! :D 

Oh and it contains SMUT)

Copia enters the dimly lit apartment, tired after a long day at the Ministry. As his eyes fall on the dining table, the sight of the candles, now extinguished, and the food spread out catches his attention. His gaze falls on the plate, which looks a little less full, a clear sign that it has been used.

At that moment, it hits him like a punch in the gut. He forgot your anniversary.

Copia closes the door behind him, the thud of the door echoing loudly in the quiet room. He takes off his shoes, kicks them aside, and walks silently to the bedroom. The events of the day replay in his mind, the stress and myriad tasks overshadowing any thought of the anniversary.

As he approaches the bedroom, a mixture of guilt and fear swirls in his stomach. He knows he's screwed up, that he's forgotten something you specifically reminded him of this morning.

Copia's hand rests on the doorknob, hesitating for a moment. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, preparing himself for your reaction. With a soft click, he opens the door and steps into the bedroom.

The room is dark, the only light from the city outside filtering through the curtains. For a moment, the silence seems deafening, the air heavy with anticipation and regret.

He can barely make out the outline of the bed and what looks like a small lump under the covers. His heart beats loudly in his chest, the uncertainty and guilt making him feel sick. He stands by the door, afraid to step further into the room, half hoping you're asleep, half afraid you're awake and angry.

you heard him enter the room and wiped away your tears before covering yourself with the blanket. you felt a mixture of emotions...anger...disappointment...helplessness...loneliness...

Copia's heart sinks as he hears the rustle of the blankets and knows you're awake and aware of his presence. He remains by the door, unsure of what to say or do. Guilt and shame eat away at him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Copia cautiously approaches the bed, the creak of the floorboards under his feet sounding like thunder in the quiet room. He stops beside the bed and looks down at the blanket-covered figure he knows is you.

He can make out the rise and fall of your breathing, but he can't see your face. The guilt and tension in the room is palpable.

He stands there for a moment, silently debating what to say. The silence is heavy, every second that passes feels like an eternity. Finally, he speaks, his voice soft and full of remorse.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbles, the words barely above a whisper. "I completely forgot our anniversary. It was a long day at the Ministry, and I... I just forgot."

The sound of Copia's voice, so soft and remorseful, only seemed to fuel your anger. His words echoed in your ears, the excuse of his busy day at the Ministry doing little to quench the fire of your disappointment.

You could feel the heat of anger building within you, the hurt and loneliness of his forgetfulness turning to bitter rage.

"You just forgot!" you asked, turning on the small light on the nightstand and sitting up to look at him. "You always forget...!"

Copia winced at your angry words, the sting in your voice cutting straight to his heart. Your mention of the effort you had put into the meal, the memory of the morning's conversation, only deepened the guilt and regret.

"I know, I know," he said, his voice thick with remorse. "I wasn't thinking. I was so caught up in work that I just... I just forgot. I'm so sorry."

Copia flinched again under the sudden light, his eyes taking in your form as you sat up in bed, the fire of anger and disappointment burning brightly in your eyes.