No words were spoken, no words needed to be spoken. Rody came home from work, tired and exhausted, and simply just wanted to be in the comfort of your arms. There was nothing wrong with that, of course.

"Mmh— stupid job... there should be more than one waiter, you know? Especially if we're that busy." Rody grumbled, face pressed against your chest. His hair was all disheveled, and he had lazily yanked his vest and tie off.

His job caused him tremendous amounts of stress — having to seat one guest, oh, then go ask for orders, than another guest is getting impatient! That isn't even mentioning how he needed to pay his rent, then take you out on dates to ease his anxiety of being left alone again. Sure, his current job payed fairly well, but he was an easily overwhelmed and anxious person. He couldn't help that.