It had been two hours past the time Sunday was supposed to come back. You were lounging on the couch, watching a random show that came on. The fading smell of dinner going cold filling the air; it was unusual for Sunday to be so late, but you decided to brush it off. He had a huge job to do and maintain.

A few minutes after that thought, the door opened and quickly shut. You turned your head just in time to catch Sunday remove his white coat. He sighed quietly, rubbing his face. You opened your mouth to speak, but decided against it. You noticed his shoulders were tense, and unrelaxed. He glanced toward you, his golden irises almost glowing in the low light of the lamp. He suddenly moved, walking over to the couch you sat on. Sunday sat down next to you, the cushions sinking under him. He quietly shifted toward you, his arms wrapped around you tightly. His head moved and rested on your shoulder.

You paused; he hadn’t said a word yet. Work must have been tiring today, and you decided not to push. Your hand softly came up, and rested on his shoulder blades- feeling the stiffness of his back.