You sat there completely blank. Fingers resting on the keyboard and eyes staring at what was supposed to be a word document showing hours of work, instead, it was your desktop wallpaper.
You shut your eyes, swallowing the golf ball-sized lump in your throat and counted to three. When every breath didn't feel like a heavy truck pushing down onto your chest, you set aside all the work littered across the kitchen counter and shifted focus to stop yourself from screaming out of frustration. And the perfect way to do just that - cleaning.
Cleaning always made stressful moments feel less of a weight. When you were young, probably in like middle school, your mother found you in the middle of a full clean mode of your room.
Back then it was all because of Toby, your first-ever crush, who broke your heart by declaring his own crush to your best friend. And ever since then, cleaning was your go to for diffusing pressure building moments from life's road bumps.
After the first three plates, two bowls and several cutlery pieces, the urge to scream had subsided. Rinsing off the soapy water from the last remaining glass you went to put it on the drying rack when it slipped from your grasp smashing to several pieces; big and small, all over the kitchen floor.
Clutching the counter, you counted to three once again before carefully grabbing the pieces and throwing them in the trash. But, of course, nothing had been going right today. So when the corner of the glass cut your index finger, the desire to scream or even cry became completely non-existent. Instead, all that was left was a sense of numbness.
**
You weren't sure how long you had been sitting on the floor staring at your bloody finger, but you gathered it was a while given that Shawn had gotten home from the studio. He called out your name, stopping in his tracks as he saw you in the kitchen on the floor.
"Baby, what happened?" He asked, rushing over.
You didn't answer. He asked again, this time in a more calmer tone. But still, no response. He rushed out of the kitchen down the hallway.
And in the blink of an eye Charles returned with the first-aid kit. He silently took care of the cut, but you could see in his eyes he was struggling with not pushing for answers. The only thing he knew was his girlfriend of two years was on the floor nursing a medium-sized cut on her finger, all while looking like she was about to break down at any second. You couldn't imagine how many thoughts he had running through his mind.
As Charles left to put away the kit, you slowly brought yourself to your knees, recollecting what little composure you could after a miserable day. However, when your eyes glanced toward the right kitchen cabinet it blew up the last piece of composure left to collect.
"Honey, what are you doing?" Charles asked, his voice sounding like an echo from miles away, even though he was standing right beside you. "I'm cleaning. I accidentally got blood on your cabinets."
Charles knelt down, "I can do it".
He tried taking away the wet towel dipped in cleaning product from your hands, but you clutched it tighter, scrubbing even harder against the door until your knuckles turned white.
"It's okay. I'll clean it later. Let's just go sit down on the couch, yeah." He softly said, offering his hand to help you up.
The lump in your throat had doubled in size; feeling now more like a basketball, by the time you made it to the couch. Charles sat opposite on the coffee table looking more worried than ever as you avoided his gaze and placed your head in your hands.
"Hey, look at me. Tell me what happened".
Shaking your head, Charles reached for your hand and you could feel your lip tremble once contact was made. Looking up as your eyes met his own, your eyes glistened with tears. It was at that moment when you finally broke. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore.
"It's just been a really shitty day. I lost all my work, hours of research gone. The heel on my favourite black heels broke as I was getting out of the car. I had the worst cup of coffee in my life. And before I broke a glass and cut my finger I got a notification reminding me it's our anniversary today which I completely forgot about, and I didn't even get you anything and now I feel like the worst girlfriend ever."
Charles pulled you into a hug, holding you close as you cried.
"You're far from a terrible girlfriend, and if it makes you feel any better I forgot a gift too."
You looked up at him, completely falling in love with him all over again as he tried to make you feel better.
"Listen, we've still got a few hours left to turn this day around. So how about you go and take a nice, long hot bath. Then after changing into something more comfortable meet me back in the living room."
You nodded, slowly making your way to the bathroom for a bath that helped soothe aching muscles and hopefully silencing a few more tears.
**
Venturing back into the living room, Charles had moved the coffee table to the side, creating more space for a mountain of blankets and pillows which all pointed towards the TV.
"I see I won't be getting that back anytime soon." Charles smiled, taking in how his YOUTH hoodie shallowed you in the cutest way.
"It's my favorite, plus you did say to change into something more comfortable."
"That I did." He kissed your forehead, whispering.
"It looks better on you, anyway." His voice along with the combination of bare skin and cool air sent a sonic wave of shivers throughout your body, which you choose to ignore, for now at least.
"What's all this?" You said, pointing to the scene in front.
He grinned, gently clapping his hands and leading you to the blanket and pillow sanctuary.
"I thought we could just relax and turn a bad day into something good. We can put your favorite movie on. And I ordered some takeout with a side of your favourite dessert, which should be here any minute".
"Charles, you didn't-".
"Yes, I did. I know you've been stretching yourself thin lately, and I can tell you still feel guilty about forgetting our anniversary. But the only thing I need is you," He moved a piece of hair from your eyes.
"Nothing else matters."
"So you're not mad at me?" He smiled, thumb caressing your cheek.
"I have nothing to be mad about, so I want you to stop worrying. Because tonight is all about relaxing, junk food and lots of cuddles from your very handsome boyfriend".
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer. The kiss, like always, sparked a rainbow of fireworks. And there was nothing better than the way Charles tasted or leaving each other breathless. Leaning your head against his chest, you exhaled, taking in the peace of having him hold you close.
