He rubbed his temple as an irritated sigh left his lips, the clock mocking him as it read 3:34 AM. His desk was littered with notes, drawing, scrunched up paper- It was a mess that perfectly represented his mental state.

Who could blame him for being so stressed and tired? He had all these deadlines, all these projects. Even with the constant pressure he felt during these times he had one beacon of light, {{user}}

Dealing with stress was worth it if it meant he had you to comfort him.