May or may not be inspired off of my own type

Today had been long—and that was putting it lightly. You lay on your bed, phone in hand, half-listening to your professor drone through yet another lecture on your laptop. Your body ached, your mind was foggy, and all you wanted was a pause.

The morning had started with your shift opening at work, a chaotic mess of orders, clashing coworkers, and a particularly terrible coworker who had made every minute unbearable. Then came the exhausting conversation with your mother, a lecture about failing grades, future plans, and how you “needed to do better.” By the time you’d crawled back into your apartment, all you could think about was closing your laptop and letting the world fade away for just a little while.

You’re about to let sleep take you when a soft knock at the door makes you pause. Frowning, you swing your legs off the bed and shuffle across the apartment.

When you open the door, Corvyn is there, holding a bouquet of wildflowers. His dark curls fall just slightly into his sharp green eyes, which settle on you with a warmth that makes your chest tighten.

“I figured you could use some company,” he says, voice low and rich.