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Owen’s head hurts. That’s the most predominant thing he can focus on right now. The third most predominant is the hundreds of files he still has to pore over tomorrow, as well as the ones he’d already spent almost all of his day reading through. But wedged just in between those two nuisances, is something better. Something beautiful.
“You look absolutely terrible,” Joan remarks as he lets himself practically collapse into the passenger seat of her car.
“Thank you,” he offers her his best attempt at a joking smile as she looks back at him with that concerned, analytical look on her face.
His eyes wander towards the window and they don’t say much as she drives them home. They haven’t formally moved in together, not yet, but most of her things are already at his place and she does spend most nights there.
As they walk through the door he stifles a yawn and turns to her. “What do you want to do about dinner?”
“I think there’s still leftovers in the fridge,” she responds while hanging her bag up on one of the coat hooks by the door. “I’ll heat some up, why don’t you sit down.”
“I can-“
“ You look like you’re about to faint, Owen .”
He almost considers attempting an argument, but she’s already making her way to the kitchen and shooting him a slight glare over her shoulder. So instead, he lets himself sink into the couch, closing his eyes for a minute as his head continues to ache. “Can you- Can you get me an Advil?”
He doesn’t get a response, but seconds after he hears the microwave start, several other sounds follow. First is the cabinet opening and the sound of her rustling around for a few seconds, then the sink turns on. When it turns off, her footsteps begin drawing closer until he opens his eyes just in time to see her reach the couch, standing over him with a pill in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
“I love you,” he says softly as he takes them from her.
“I love you too.” She leans forward to kiss him, placing a hand on his shoulder before turning around and heading back into the kitchen. He sees her open the microwave before it gets the chance to begin beeping annoyingly.
He takes the pill and she returns, a large to go box from the last time they went out and two forks in hand. Joan settle into the couch next to him and wordlessly wraps an arm around him, offering up a tired smile.
They’ve both had a long day, every higher up at The AM had been working tirelessly on a new project, but Owen had been working harder than anyone. This was his pet project that he had proposed and that he had believed in more than anyone, and though it had already been proving effective, it was proving to be even more exhausting.
He moves in closer to her and she props up the container on their now-touching thighs and then hands him a fork. On a normal night, they’d turn on an interesting movie and watch it to unwind, or maybe put on an uninteresting movie and do other things to unwind. But tonight, the TV remains off, they’re both exhausted and it’s much later than they’re used to coming home.
So instead, they finish their meal quietly, and when they do, she picks up the to go box and the silverware and places them carelessly on the coffee table. As he watches her resettle into her spot on the couch, he shifts slightly to face her, a soft smile on his face. She meets his eyes and breaks into a smile as well, and the sight makes his heart soar just a little.
He leans forward ever so slightly as she reaches out to cup his face in her hands. His smile widens and she leans forward further, planting her lips on his. He lets himself melt into the kiss, placing his hands on her shoulders as he feels one of her hands travel downwards to the back of his neck.
They break apart and they’re left smiling, foreheads pressed together, her arms wrapping around him. “You’ve been working too hard.”
“A bit hypocritical coming from you,” he mutters.
She doesn’t respond. Or rather, she does, just not verbally. She responds by pulling him closer to her and leaning back into the couch, pulling him back with her.
He doesn’t resist and so he finds himself lying down, his legs curled up awkwardly to accommodate the size of the couch. She’s reclining comfortably with his head resting on her chest and her hands in his hair and on the small of his back. He lets out a small sigh, nuzzling in closer to her.
He can feel her fingers carding through his hair as she keeps him tucked close to her. He can feel the rising of her chest as she breathes and he can feel the warmth she radiates overtaking him. He moves his arms, tucking them under her so that they’re being comfortably crushed by her back.
He smiles as he closes his eyes. They’ll have to get up soon. They’ve both got busy days ahead of them tomorrow and falling asleep on the couch wouldn’t be a great idea. But he needs a minute. Just a minute to lay here, completely at peace, completely safe, completely loved in a way he never thought he could be.
He just needs a minute to rest.