Everyone has their favorite day of the week. Some like Wednesday because it means the week is halfway over. Others prefer Fridays and Saturdays that bring the fun of going out and downing drinks. The best day in your the house? Sunday. You were accompanied by your boyfriend, him always saying "Sundays are our days." With all the time you spent wrapped up in each other on Sunday, one of the worst feelings was waking up Monday morning knowing your paradise had to come to an end. From tour to PR ploys, to other friends and family, Sunday was the only time you knew you had Charles all to yourself. Sometimes you felt selfish, and you're sure some people thought you were too, but you wanted to have them try and share their best friend, and boyfriend, with a million other people. Even though it sucked, never for a second did you think of trying to take away Charles' dream or the life he worked so hard to build for himself. You rolled over expecting to run into a strong body but were met, face first, with a cold indent of where Charles should have laid. You groaned and grabbed his pillow and molded it until it filled the space he usually took up. You gave yourself a good fifteen minutes, maybe twenty of pretending your boyfriend was still in bed before you got up and tried to start your Monday.
You grabbed your clothes from the walk in, tempted to grab Charles' sweater so you could linger in your Sunday traditions just a little longer. Before it got too weird, you made your way to the bathroom to start your shower and the rest of the dreaded day.
Showers are your quiet times. The heat of the water and the steaming of your bathroom always seemed to calm you down. Charles always made sure to show you the water bill just to make sure you knew how much you do value your showers. You reached for the shampoo bottle and heard the what you could only describe as typical Monday morning chaos going on downstairs, along with a slew of swears. "Babe? That you?" you called out, working the product into your hair. After you got no response, you turned all your attention back to your hair and singing the same commercial jingle that was stuck in your head over and over.
"You know I always tell you asking that is pointless? If I were a killer, all you'd be doing is letting me know where you are so I could come get you," he pointed out, without announcing his presence. The thud he heard was the conditioner bottle slipping out of your hand and into a body wash bottle, and then finally landing on the floor.
"Charles!" you yelled. "What do I always tell you about coming places unannounced! Specifically, the bathroom where I can't see you come in!" You caught wind of his soft chuckle behind the curtain.
"Well if you would stop leaving the door unlocked," he scoffed, "or wide open, we wouldn't have the problem now would we?" It was silent besides the steady stream of the shower. You pictured him fiddling with his phone on the charger, or going through the clothes you brought with you, to see what he would get to see you in. It was a bad habit he picked up when you went on vacation to Hawaii last month. "Love these shorts on you," he mumbled while fiddling with your pile of clothes.
"Where'd you go this morning?" you questioned, trying to keep conditioner out of your eyes to the best of your ability. "Left me to get through Monday morning alone." You finally turned the water off and peaked your head out of the shower, awaiting his answer. You studied him while he gathered his answer. He was rested against the wall of your bathroom. His lashes were locked for a moment before looking up to shoot you a small smile.
"Had to take care of something, last-minute meeting about the label and last minute album changes. Sorry, meant to leave a note." You're not sure what it was, but something about the way his voice lacked more excitement had you staring at him waiting for more. After he answered you, he went back to his phone, reply to fans or just cringing, remembering his old vines.
"Babe?" you questioned, now in a robe standing in front of him.
"Jesus, (y/n)! I thought you were still fucking showering; don't do that!" You snickered.
"Said the pot to the kettle," you said smirked before resting your head on his chest while he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. "What's up, Charles?" You felt him tense slightly. He began raking his fingers through your wet hair.
"Whatcha mean, honey?" Deflecting. It was Charles's specialty, and he was good at it.
"Dunno, you just seem off? Whenever you come home from meetings and stuff, you're usually excited and rambling endlessly, but today you're just kind of quiet." You shrugged while looking up at him. "Just checking in on you." He sighed and looked away.
"Nothing I can't handle." He leaned down to kiss your hair, taking a second to smell his favorite shampoo. "Love you for that though, always worrying about me." You shook your head at the typical antics of your boyfriend.
"You don't have to 'just handle it' when you have me." You grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom. "Sit." You pushed him onto the bed and sat on his lap. "Now talk." He let out a small laugh while going back to playing with your hair, his fingertips running made up patterns on your scalp.
"Babe, it's nothing. Just started out having a bad day, that's all." He let his chin rest on the top of your head and closed his eyes, relaxing into your touch.
"I want to hear it, if you want to tell it." Your continued persistence made him smile as he started to disclose his morning to you.
"And they said I couldn't do it! And of course that got me upset, and I just felt like they were trying to control me and my image!" You nodded along as he talked about the meeting that dragged on through most of the morning. "God and it lasted forever! If you're going to make me sit through this meeting at least let me get a word in!"
"Calm, babe," you said, your turn to rub soothing shapes into his chest. He continued on, his words allowing you to travel with him through his day.
"Okay, so this was totally my fault, but you can't make a special that tastes like ass!" You laugh as he told you about stopping at your favorite coffee shop and trying something new for the first time.
"You know what you like! Why do you insist on trying new things?"
"Because I like to pretend I'm adventurous, you know this!" He whined, and you laughed hard and long into his chest.
"Mess, I'm dating a mess." He grinned wide before pulling you closer to his chest.
"Maybe. I mean probably. But you love me anyway, and I love you for that." Your eyes were closed as soft kisses littered the side of your face.
"I think sometimes you forget I know you so well, and it makes me laugh. I knew something was up the second you weren't in bed with a note, or text, or anything. You know I try and give you your space for a bit, but I'm never going to wallow in a poor day. I'm always here." He beamed down at you before lifting you up, eliciting a squeal from you. "Charles!"
"I missed breakfast with my girl, and I've decided we're having pancakes!" He announced as he made his way towards the stairs with you in his arms.
"Charles!" Charles, it's literally one in the afternoon." You said reminding him just how much of the day he's spent away from you. He stopped to make eye contact with you.
"The beginning of today kinda sucked, and I was bummed, but you turned it around, and I know how you get when I do crazy things like buying you a car or whatever else, so I'm simply going to make you breakfast to say sorry for missing it this morning, and thank you for always having my back." Pulling his head down, you enjoyed your first real kiss of the morning.
"To the kitchen, we go."
