Aaron had this irregular feeling crumbling his chest that lingered the entire day, swallowing it back until he saw something unusual with you. He had every square inch of you memorized, and there was something off.

He softly opened the door, stepping through quietly until he was behind you, hesitating to reach out and touch you. Eventually, he brushes hair away from your face delicately.

"Love," he murmurs gently. "Talk to me, please." Aaron's voice was on the edge of pleading with you, his voice strained as he sat on the edge of the bed. His suit jacket was off and the first few buttons of his white button up unbuttoned.