Work Text:
It had been a busy day for you. Your colleagues, with their blabbering about the weather and whatnot, were getting on your nerves so badly you had started to find staring at the blank, snow-coloured wallpaper more interesting than having to listen to any of their words. On any other day, you might have even joined them in their banter, eager to be part of the group, to fill the air in the breakroom with chatter, creating an energy you could feed off of before returning to work. You considered some of the people working alongside you to be the loveliest people to ever have met, with kind eyes and open hearts and mouths that were always eager to share stories like they were gathered around a campsite, like that company retreat months ago, when the air was humid and buzzing with little creatures that, too, wanted to belong to your little community. But, again, today had been a busy day for you.
When overstimulated, overworked, overwhelmed, you tended to behave like a tortoise, retreating into your shell. You would try to avoid intense stimuli, turning down your devices’ brightness, putting on noise-canceling headphones, hugging a comforting cardigan close to your aching and tiring body, the softness instantly grounding you and helping you breathe more evenly. You had done all those things today, because you knew what happened otherwise - if not left alone to recharge, the people around you would come in contact with the hard exterior of your shell. And yet, it seems like the universe had other plans for you.
Your boss, an ever-so-lovely woman with bright eyes and an even brighter smile, had poked her head around the corner, requesting you to step out of your office and into the breakroom. To your question as to why this was required, she responded by letting you know that the higher-ups had brought Valentine’s day treats for the entire office, nudging you in the side and encouraging you to maybe ask someone in a different department out?
Usually, you wouldn’t have minded her making an assumption about your love life, there was a reason why you kept it private: you simply did not see why the company should have even more information about you. But today, you did mind. You were with someone and for once, you did feel like letting the others know. But you didn’t want to make a fuss, risk upsetting your boss by responding harshly as that was prone to happen in your uncomfortable state, and also the walk from your office to the break room during which you passed by your colleagues’ desks just really didn’t seem like a good time to break the news.
So here you were, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, the backrest digging into your spine uncomfortably, while trying to block out the noise that was emanating from your surroundings: mindless chatter, the metal clinking of the cutlery, someone’s keys rustling around in their pocket, laughter coming from a corner in the room where someone almost poured the scalding hot coffee over themselves.
Somehow, you managed to get through the affair relatively unscathed and were able to return to your office after fifteen seemingly endless minutes. Following your disruption, you took a look at your to-do-list. Only three more points. You can do this. Just do these three things and then you can pick up her gift and go home to her. How much time is left? You’ve got - fuck. With a glance at your computer screen you were able to observe that the store you desperately needed to visit before returning to your shared home with your girlfriend had been closed for forty-five minutes already. Your heartbeat quickened rapidly, your temperature rose, and for the love of God would your colleagues just please keep it down so you could think? On impulse, you slammed your office door shut and started pacing around the room, your plans for the evening crumbling before you. You picked up your phone, ignoring the texts she sent you, scrolling through your saved numbers and dialing the jeweler’s number anxiously while sending a silent prayer to any higher entity that would listen.
“We are quite definitely closed,” a stern deep voice answered your call.
“I’m sorry, I know, I meant to come by earlier today, but work was crazy and-” you tried to explain yourself frantically, your voice continuously getting higher in pitch as your throat closed up and you felt tears spring to your eyes.
“And what do you want me to do about your poor time management skills? I’m sure you had a break today where you could’ve stopped by. We are open again tomorrow. Do not try calling again,” he interrupted before you heard the sound of the call ending.
Slumped, you fell into your chair, rolling back a few inches on the carpet floor with your head hung low. The tears that had been threatening to fall crossed the threshold and started to stream down your cheeks, leaving an uncomfortable, tight feeling on your skin. You had picked out a pair of earrings for Wilhemina, upside-down teardrop-shaped amethysts attached to small golden hoops. You knew she would love them, they were the perfect elegant pair that completed her every outfit. Gift giving was one of your favorite things to do for her, you loved to watch her eyes light up with glee while she tried to hide her smile but ultimately failed and engulfed you in a hug and a kiss that usually left her breathless. In the past few weeks, you hadn’t had a lot of time together, the company you were working for making everyone work overtime, leading to tensions between you and your partner due to the lack of quality time and energy. You had talked it out already, but you felt that this gift could add to your apology. You had been looking forward to seeing her face when she opened the box all day, and now that was ruined because of your inability to make sure you could pick it up on time. Letting your forehead hit your desk, you felt yourself get pulled deeper into your self-loathing.
It was at this moment your least favorite coworker decided to open your office door. Unfortunately, but unbeknownst to him, he was going to get your worst.
“Hey Y/N, since it’s Valentine’s Day and all I wanted to ask if such a pretty lady as yourself might wanna go out on a date with a fella like me?” After being met with your silence while you tried to compose yourself in the quickest and most silent way possible, he edged on “Come on, I know you wanna say yes, I saw how you looked at me at the company Christmas party. I can show you a good time,” he said suggestively. Your head rose and he barely had any time to look at your still slightly-puffy eyes before you rushed from your seat and pushed your pointer finger against his sternum.
“I don’t know what on Earth gave you the impression that I was looking at your sorry ass at the Christmas party. You are an incompetent, annoying and most of all arrogant dickhead and if you honestly think that I would ever, ever willingly spend my hard-earned free time with an idiot such as yourself, you are even dumber than you look. Now get the fuck out of my office.” You growled at him, spinning on your heels to let out a deep breath, anger seeping through all of your pores.
But just as quickly as it came, it dissipated, leaving you feeling empty and, to your own surprise, full of regret. As your realization dawned upon you, you knew you were in big trouble and wanted to apologize, but as you turned around, you were alone again. You tried going after him, but you didn’t actually know where his office was and you also really didn’t feel like dealing with him in person right now, you sat down at your desk to comprise a short email to him in which you stated your apology and expressed your regret, promising to make it up to him. After hitting send, you felt all your leftover energy leave your body, leading to you slumping back against the mesh of your office chair.
Slowly, you packed up your things, feeling drained from the past nine hours you had spent at work, not bothering to put on your headphones to make yourself feel better with some music. On your commute home, your guilt started to consume you, feeling disappointed in yourself for not managing to pick up the gift you had chosen for Wilhemina, questions of self-doubt usually kept burrowed far down in your brain bubbling up like sparkling water, leaving your brain feeling fuzzy. When your phone buzzed from an incoming phone call from your girlfriend, you stuffed it back in your pocket, unable to form a coherent response to match her incredible wit anyway. You contemplated walking around your block or just disappearing off the face of the earth, but you dismissed that second option rather quickly, deciding it was a bit too dramatic after all.
You stepped into your apartment building, deciding to take the stairs rather than the elevator as a form of punishment on your already aching body, not quite ready to face your partner yet. Feeling your heartbeat race while fumbling with the keys, you were not sure if your accelerated heart rate was due to the six flights of stairs you had just climbed or your anxiety. Before you could push the key in, your red-haired girlfriend opened the door with a neutral expression.
“Good evening. Welcome home. I almost thought you had decided to ditch me.”
Your heart sank and you could feel yourself mentally retreating further into your shell. Stepping aside, Wilhemina let you into your shared space, waiting patiently for you to take off your shoes, your coat, waiting for you to counter her remark with one of the playful quips she so loved you for. She did not want to hurt you, or make you feel bad, she loved bantering with you and acting a little angry, wanting you to break her stern facade, just like you did when you two first got acquainted. The storm inside your head, however, did not fade away, rendering you incapable of responding at all. Feeling the tears rise again, you stormed off into the bedroom to strip down into more comfortable clothes, craving the stability of your evening rituals usually shared with your beloved, slamming the door shut, indicating your need for space.
Neither you nor Wilhemina were experts at communicating your emotions, often lashing out when hurt and being much better at physical expressions of your inner workings. That was one of the layers of foundation in your relationship, you felt that you understood each other and were not usually offended if one hurled insults around herself because you recognized it as your own behavior. This was what left your partner tilting her head to the side and worriedly starting to pace around the kitchen where she was checking on the food she prepared for the both of you much more frequently than necessary. If you had taken the time to read her messages, you would’ve seen that she also had to work late and that she was looking forward to spending some quiet time with you later. Instead, your mind had started spiraling quickly, you were sure that this was the end of everything you had built with her, and your brain was working feverishly to prove to you that you were everything faulty in the relationship.
When you felt the need to distance yourself from your partner, you would usually return to her after a few minutes when you had calmed down and felt open to discussing whatever was going on with her. So when ten minutes passed and she hadn’t heard a single sound coming out of the bedroom, Wilhemina was starting to get worried. Comfort had never been her strong suit, but over time, and with your help, she had learned a few mechanisms and tricks that get both you and her to calm down. Turning off the heat on the food she made, she stepped towards the bedroom. Tentatively, she knocked on the door.
“Darling? May I come in?” After hearing a muffled “Yes”, she opened the door slowly so as not to startle you too badly. You were buried underneath the covers, the chilly February air blasting through the open windows while you were shivering. Usually, the pile of your work clothes that lay beside the bed would have been chided, but Wilhemina’s concerned eyes only met yours with a soft gaze.
Slowly, she moved closer to the window, careful not to tap her cane too hard on the ground and closed it softly. Moving back the sheets on her side of the bed, she rested her cane on her bedside table and lay back against the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. Her hand etched closer to yours, and you eventually grasped it tightly, thinking that if you let go of her hand, you would let everything go. Ever so lightly, she began to trace patterns with her thumb, a motion that you told her soothed you. Her attentiveness warmed your insides, and you realized that maybe she wasn’t going to break up with you.
“Do you want to talk about what happened, baby?” she asked in a low voice. The pet name brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes and you burrowed yourself into her side while shaking your head furiously. You felt her hand that wasn’t being squished by yours start to move in deliberate, slow circles across your back and soft lips press against your forehead.
“Okay. Wanna lay like this a little longer?” You nodded and as you felt her exhale, you started to calm down. Wilhemina was still worried, but relief washed over her for being able to get through you, proud of you for letting her in despite your inner turmoil. After a few minutes, she started again.
“Let’s have a bath and get some clothes on you, alright? I made dinner and I would love to eat it with you.” You nodded again and pressed a kiss to her neck, saying a quiet thank you. You let her escape your grasp and rose with her. You were shivering all the way to the bathroom where she took her robe from the hanger and placed it over your body, tying it for you and kissing the tip of your nose. Your mind started to calm down more as you went through your ritual of preparing a bath together, you taking care of the temperature and retrieving your towels from the cabinet, her choosing a bath scent and pouring in the liquid. She undressed herself and took your hand to get into the bath, an action that had taken her great courage in the beginning of your relationship. You took off your underwear as well and made yourself comfortable in front of her, the soothing warmth radiating from both the water around you and your love behind you letting the thoughts in your mind come to a halt and you felt that it was time to speak.
“I had a bad day today.” Her right hand ran up and down your arm calmly, encouragingly squeezing your bicep to continue.
“There was so much for me to do, they made me go into the break room with everyone when I was overwhelmed, that fucking idiotic colleague I told you about hit on me, and-” you took a breath to calm yourself, “I couldn’t pick up your gift after work because I didn’t pay attention to the time and when I wanted to leave work they were already closed.” You finished and closed your eyes, choosing to focus on the way her body felt against yours. Wilhemina gently pulled you against her chest while leaning the both of you back against the tub and kissed the back of your head.
“Thank you for telling me. I can imagine that must’ve been difficult for you.” Her validating words made you nod and you suddenly felt very glad you didn’t decide to disappear off the earth today. Being in her arms was much nicer.
“I’m sorry for being home so late. You probably had to wait for hours, and you made all this food, and had to keep it warm and I didn’t respond to your call or messages and-” She interrupted you by turning your head closer to her and kissing the corner of your mouth. “It’s okay. I had to work late as well. I just wanted to let you know. It’s all good. You’re here now, aren’t you?” You nodded.
“And about earlier... I am sorry for choosing the words I did, I should’ve known something was off and you were upset, you usually never miss a chance to talk. I wanted to have some playful banter with you, that was all. I’m not upset with you and I didn’t think you would ditch me for someone else. I know we’re in this committed relationship and I trust and love you.” She finished her speech with a squeeze to your arms.
“For someone who says they’re bad at comforting others, you sure make a good safe haven. Thank you. I love you too.” You remarked and felt fully at ease.
After drying yourselves off, you both put on your fluffy loungewear, longing to feel comforted after the evening you’d had, trotting into the kitchen to retrieve some dinner which you ate in comfortable silence at the dining table, neither of you having a lot of energy for small talk. You put the dishes aside and brushed your teeth together. Back in your bedroom, she guided you to sit on the bed facing away from her while she leaned back against the pillows while she started softly playing with your hair and giving you a gentle scalp massage. You started to fuss, arguing that she had already done so much for you, but she cut you off.
“I don’t want to hear a word of it. Let me do something for you, I want to make you feel good.” You allowed her and after a few minutes, you turned around and connected your lips tenderly, feeling her smile against you.
“Mina?” You asked after your moment. “Hm?”
“Do you think we can just cuddle or something?” Rationally, you knew she didn’t expect any sex from you, she never did. But then again, it was Valentine’s Day and there had already been so many things you had not been able to do the way it would’ve been expected from you today. “Of course”, she responded.
The two of you cozied up, holding hands. You felt your mind was as calm as a peaceful ocean, thoughts like waves coming and going, a gentle breeze blowing away the stress of the day as you allowed yourself to feel at home.