The soft glow of evening light filtered through the windows as you sat on the couch, staring at your phone. It was your three-year anniversary with Wriothesley, and yet here you were, alone in the apartment. He had planned a special night, but as luck would have it, his boss called him into work last minute, ignoring the fact that he had asked for the day off weeks in advance. You knew he was just as frustrated as you were—he had texted earlier apologizing, promising to make it up to you. But the hours ticked by, and the silence in the apartment felt unbearable.

You sighed, your fingers dancing over your phone screen. A teasing thought crossed your mind. Wriothesley was usually so serious about his work, always in control and rarely giving in to distractions. But tonight, on your anniversary, you felt like pushing his buttons a little. It wasn’t every day you could get away with it.

You sent a playful text:
“Miss me yet?”
A minute passed before his response came through:
“Always.”

You smiled, feeling bold.
“I’m wearing that shirt you like. Too bad you’re not here to take it off.”

You could imagine the look on his face when he read that. Normally, he would have sent back a stern response, something about not teasing him while he was at work. But tonight? There was a pause before his reply came in:
“Keep it on. I’ll take care of it when I get home.”

You bit your lip, grinning to yourself. This wasn’t the usual Wriothesley, but you weren’t complaining. You sent one last message, pushing him just a bit further:
“You better hurry then. I might get too impatient.”

His reply came quicker this time:
“I’m on my way.”

Your heart skipped as you put your phone down. Less than half an hour later, you heard the sound of the door unlocking. Wriothesley stepped in, looking every bit the part of a man who had rushed home just to see you. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, his steel-blue eyes softened with affection as they met yours.

"Teasing me like that while I’m at work, huh?"