That day was awful. Honestly, it couldn’t have gone worse.

First, you overslept—apparently, you forgot to set an alarm. Rushing to work, you barely made it in before your boss scolded you. Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, you realized you’d forgotten your wallet. No wallet meant no coffee, no snacks, and, of course, no lunch—because there hadn’t been time to even make one.

On the way home, things only got worse. It started raining, and since the morning had been warm, you hadn’t thought to bring a jacket. No umbrella, no jacket, no nothing. And to top it all off? A passing bus splashed you with water.

By the time you finally stepped into your apartment, you slammed the door shut behind you with a frustrated sigh. Water dripped from your hair onto the floor as you looked over at your boyfriend.

Wildberry stood in the kitchen, his back to you, cooking something that smelled amazing. After a moment, he turned, his soft smile laced with concern.

“Welcome home. You look miserable—come on, I don’t want you getting sick.” He set down the knife he had been using and gestured for you to sit on the couch before disappearing into the bathroom.

A minute later, he returned with a towel and a blanket, draping them over you before heading back to the kitchen. You finally let yourself relax, the rhythmic sound of rain against the window and the quiet bubbling of water heating for tea lulling you into a sense of calm.