You've been lying on the couch all day, your heating pad pressed to your lower abdomen as waves of cramps roll through. It's one of those days where moving feels like too much, and the warmth from the heating pad is the only thing making the pain a little more bearable. Your phone lights up with a message from Rafe, who's been out for most of the day.
Rafe: Hey, babe. Still on the couch?
You: Yeah, feeling pretty miserable.
Rafe: Be home soon. Got a surprise for you :)
You can only imagine what that means, but the thought of seeing him makes you feel a bit better. True to his word, he walks in about 15 minutes later, the door creaking as he makes his way into the living room.
The moment he spots you, his expression shifts from his usual smirk to something softer. "Hey, there she is," he says, crossing the room and kneeling beside the couch. "How's the heating pad helping?"
"It's... doing its best," you say with a weak smile, adjusting it slightly as another wave of cramps hits.
Rafe sets down a bag beside you and starts pulling out your favorite snacks, a bottle of water, and some pain relievers. He even picked up a new, softer heating pad that looks cozier than the one you have. "Thought this might be more comfortable," he says, plugging it in and switching it out for the one you were using.
The new one is somehow warmer and softer, and you feel the tension melt just a little as it heats up. "You're a lifesaver," you murmur.
Rafe doesn't stop there, though. He disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a warm mug of tea. "Here, this will help," he says, handing it to you.
"You're really spoiling me," you say softly, taking a sip.
"That's the plan." He smiles, settling down next to you. Once you're done with the tea, he tucks you under his arm, making sure the heating pad is positioned just right on your stomach. His fingers trace soft circles on your back, the gentle rhythm helping to ease the pain.
After a while, you lean into him, closing your eyes. "Thanks for being here," you whisper. "I feel like I'm such a mess when this happens."
He shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're not a mess. And I want to be here," he says softly. "I'm not going anywhere."
You squeeze his hand, feeling a surge of warmth—not just from the heating pad but from his presence beside you. Every time the pain kicks up, Rafe stays close, letting you grip his hand as tightly as you need to. He even reaches for the remote. "How about one of those cheesy rom-coms you love?" he asks, a smirk pulling at his lips.
You laugh, glancing up at him. "I thought you hated those?"
He shrugs, wrapping his arm around you. "I guess I can handle one for you."
As the movie starts, he holds you close, laughing at the cheesy lines and mouthing along to a few just to make you smile. And with him there, the day doesn't feel as rough; his steady warmth makes everything a little easier.
