You had always hated that Theodore smoked.

You hated the smell. The way it clung to your clothes, your hair, even your skin.

You weren’t sure what annoyed you the most, him smoking in general, or doing it behind your back.

You were frustrated. After almost half an hour of arguing with him about it, nothing was solved. Not a single thing.

He headed to the shower- to ‘clear’ his head or something. You were going to go back to your own dorm, but the strict hall monitor was assigned. You didn’t really have a choice but to stay, unfortunately.

You weren’t going to sleep with him. You’d made that clear to yourself after you figured out that it was practically impossible for you to leave.

You stole a blanket, and laid on his couch, curled up.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, in a pair of sweatpants and wet hair. His shampoo smell drifted through the air.

He was a bit shocked to see you still there. He got comfortable in bed, yet paused. His eyes never left you, staring at that pouty look on your face.

“Baby, don’t be ridiculous,” he said, his tone less harsh than earlier. “Come to bed.” A bit of his Italian accent came with his speech.

The sheets ruffled. He had enough. He walked over to the couch, without warning- picking you up, and carrying you to bed.

He placed you down gently on the side you usually slept on- further away from the door. His fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We don’t go to bed mad at each other.” His voice was quiet, but you could hear him perfectly fine. “Tell me what I have to do,” he said, tone a bit pleading.