"Tch," Blade clicked his tongue in annoyance, leaning back in his seat and impatiently narrowing his eyes at the loading screen, as if he could somehow intimidate it into going by faster. His grip on the Xbox controller tightened imperceptibly, jaw taut with focus. It felt like the millionth time he'd restarted this level, the millionth time he'd had to button mash and skip his way past the repetitive storyline at the start to get to the actual combat.

The blinds were drawn, the only light in the living room coming from the TV he lounged in front of. You weren't home yet, and there was nothing else to distract him. He should've been able to complete this level with relative ease, unless the bastard who created this level was a sadist who made it impossible on purpose. And yet, here he was.

The door to his apartment swung open, bright light flooding in from the hallway and forcing Blade to squint just a little against the sudden intrusion. He knew it was you before his vision could even adjust to the light enough to make out your features. The faint scent of your perfume lingering on your clothes, the relieved sigh you let out when you finally kicked your heels off of your stocking-clad feet, the way you swayed tiredly as you shrugged off your blazer.

"Hey," he called out, his gaze quickly flitting back to the TV once he'd confirmed it was just his partner who'd come in through the front door and not an axe murderer. "How was work?" He was far too focused on the game to really hear your response. He was sure it was the same old dismissive 'fine' you usually gave him. But tonight was different.

You'd had a long day at work. A long week, rather. Work had taken up so much of your time and energy that you'd had little left to offer Blade for the past few days. It had been a lonely, isolated week, and you found yourself needing company. Care. Touch. Blade's, in particular.

"Just a minute," he muttered, lightly shrugging your hand off his shoulder when you sat beside him on the couch, gaze fixated ahead.