𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝗼𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐢𝗺𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

74, 79 ❁ 𝘻𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘯

∞༺♡༻✧
𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 @𝗙𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗲𝟬𝟲𝟬𝟳
"𝑖 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔, 𝑜𝑘𝑎𝑦? 𝑖𝑚 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡.....𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑"
"𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒"
∞༺♡༻✧

This morning when Zach left the house to go to the studio, he seemed extremely grumpy.
I brushed it off knowing he's not a morning person at all.
I have to actually bribe him to get out of bed sometimes because he just hates the morning.
The day went buy fairly quick, I was busy doing some schoolwork and cleaning out apartment.
I was setting the table for dinner when the front door opened and Zach stormed through.
He didn't even glance at me as he rushed up the stairs and slammed our bedroom door.
I sighed and turned the stove off, slowly making my way up to our room.
I lightly knocked, waiting for a response.
"What?" he snapped.
"Can I come in?"
There was no response, but I heard the door unlock, so I twisted the knob and strolled on in.
He was pacing around the room as he pulled his shirt off, leaving him a pair of sweats he must have changed into earlier.
He balled the shirt up and projected the port shirt into the wall.
"Woah, honey, what happened today?" I asked, getting no response.
I stood by the door and watched as he raided our room, seemingly looking for something.
"What are you looking for?" I asked, still receiving the silent treatment.
He ripped through the drawers and threw the covers of our bed back. He was rummaging around our dresser and he accidentally knocked a perfume bottle off, causing it to shatter on the floor.
"Fuck," he muttered, rushing to pick up the glass.
"Baby, calm down. I'll clean it up, just...what's wrong?" I asked.
I placed a hand on his back, but he shrugged it off, pushing past me to go get paper towels.
At this point I was kinda pissed. All I want to do is help him.
I followed him to the bathroom, but I stood in the doorway so he was trapped.
"Please move," he said.
"Oh, so he speaks?" I snarked.
He rolled his eyes and just looked at me with pleading eyes.
"Is this how little you think of me, Zach? I'm just trying to help you."
"I don't think little of you. I just want to go fucking clean up the perfume and I don't need help so can you please just fucking move?" he snapped.
"Fine! You don't need my help? Then you can fucking clean the tiny shards of glass up and you can get the fucking stain out of the carpet on your own, and I'm telling you right now, a couple fucking paper towels aren't going to do you much justice. Oh, by the way, dinner is ready, you can fucking eat by yourself," I growled, then turned away and went back downstairs to get some food.
I was sitting at the table, eating in peace, until I heard a yelp from upstairs.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he probably cut himself on the glass from the perfume bottle.
I sighed, but restrained myself from going upstairs to help him.
Instead, he sauntered down the stairs and stared at me with teary eyes.
"Are you okay?" I asked, bot even looking up from my plate.
"No," he whimpered.
I sighed in defeat and dropped my fork, walking to where he was standing at the bottom of the stairs.
I gently took his hand on looked at the small slice in his finger. It really wasn't that bad, in fact, he could've just rinsed it with some water and put a bandaid on, but he's a four year old, so of course he came to me.
I turned in the sink and pulled him so his finger was under the water. While he stood there, I went to our medicine cabinet and grabbed a bandaid.
I went back to him and turned off the water, using a paper towel to dry his finger, which was only bleeding a little bit now.
I wrapped the bandaid around his finger and then leaned down to kiss his finger.
I looked up at him and brushed a few hairs out of his face, then kissed his forehead.
"What's wrong?" I asked, locking our fingers together.
"I don't know what's wrong, okay? I'm just.....really tired," he admitted, letting his head fall into my shoulder.
"Aw, baby," I cooed, pulling him into my arms.
He nuzzled his head into my neck and I stood, rubbing his back.
"Do you just wanna skip dinner and go to bed?" I asked, even though it was only about eight thirty.
He nodded and I pulled him upstairs to our bedroom.
We both crawled under the covers, our bodies instantly cuddled up to each other again.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," I whispered, but he had already drifted off to sleep on me.

∞༺♡༻✧
𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 - 𝟰/𝟰/𝟮𝟬
𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢
∞༺♡༻✧