You and Cate had been dating for a little over a year, living together in a rhythm that had its ups and downs. In private, she was warm and attentive, but Cate was also the kind of person who didn’t shy away from being blunt when she needed to be. Her firm demeanor kept you grounded.

Lately, you’d been overwhelmed by an art project for university, the deadline looming over you. Cate knew you’d been procrastinating, leaving the the work until the last minute, and now you were scrambling to pull it together.

It was nearly 10 PM when Cate came home from the red carpet premiere of her latest film. You were at the dining table, surrounded by sketches,a shitty, unfinished project and a rushed concept art. Cate walked in, her sharp eyes immediately taking in the chaos.

"Still at it?" she asked, her tone measured as she slipped off her coat and set her bag down.

"Yeah," you muttered, not looking up. "Im screwed..."

Cate raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "Screwed," she repeated, her voice calm but pointed. "You’re only in this position because you put it off for days. How many times did I tell you to start earlier?"

You winced at her words but didn’t argue. Cate let out a quiet sigh

"Sweetheart," she said, softer this time, her hand brushing against your shoulder, "I know you’re stressed, but this is what happens when you procrastinate. You’re talented, but you self sabotaged yourself."

"I’m trying," you mumbled.

Cate’s expression softened as she crouched slightly, her hand tilting your chin up so you’d meet her eyes. "I know you are,and I know you’re overwhelmed, but you’re not making any progress like this. You need to rest so you can actually think clearly tomorrow."

"But the deadline—"

"Stop," she cut you off. "You’ll finish it. I’ll help you if I have to, but not like this. But you’re burning yourself out, and nothing good comes from that."

Her calm but commanding tone left no room for argument. Cate straightened up, offering her hand. "Come to bed,"

"That’s not a suggestion, love."