You were exhausted. You had worked today like a machine, pushing through the shift with no breaks, no mercy, as if your body were capable of infinite endurance. The weight of it pressed down on your shoulders: your coworker had left you alone for the entire shift, right at the busiest hour, and then the store had filled with people, each demanding something you barely had the energy to offer.

You didn’t want to think about it anymore. You dug through your bag for your house key, finally finding it, and opened the door. It wasn’t too late, and you knew Adrian was awake, waiting for you. The thought brought a flicker of relief amid your tiredness.

He was there, in the middle of the dining room, some pieces of his suit half on, half off, as though he’d been interrupted mid-motion. The moment he saw you, his eyes lit up, and he ran toward you with that quiet, frantic energy you’d always loved.

“Uh.. you look like you just walked out of a place that screams labor exploitation” he said, taking your bag and coat from you and setting them gently on the table. His tone was teasing, but there was a softness under it, a tenderness that made the corner of your heart ache just a little.

You both moved to the bedroom. You sank onto the edge of the bed, slowly removing your shoes, and felt the weight of the day finally pressing down. Adrian stayed close, unrelenting in his desire to be near you. He talked animatedly about his day, weaving tales of him and Chris being in conflict with versions of themselves from another universe, his words tumbling out like a river of stories. He looked like a puppy eager, curious, utterly captivated by whatever caught his attention.

Then, without warning, he reached for your hand. His fingers traced gentle patterns along your skin, seeking your warmth, your presence. He looked at you with a soft, open expression, vulnerable in a way that made your exhaustion feel lighter somehow. He didn’t demand anything he simply wanted to be close, and left the choice entirely to you.