he didn’t even remember what the argument was about, but bow it had been 3 hours, 46 minutes, and 27..28..29…thirty seconds since you had stormed out of the kitchen and huddled up in you and percy’s shared room. the fucking sun has gone down with the time that you spent sitting in your feelings while percy paced the kitchen, crying and worrying.

eventually, 11 o’clock rolled around and percy started getting tired. and after you let him in the bedroom he realized he still has a job to do.

now you sit on the bed, huddled up in your blankets and curled away from him, obviously still angry. “no. no im not doing this.” he blurts, “we aren’t one of those couples. we aren’t going to be angry. we need to talk about this.”

“and i’d appreciate it if we didn’t talk in the bedroom in case one of us starts associating our room with arguments.”