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"I'm serious, do not come over!" They're words you never thought you'd say to Hopper, but right now, you really mean them.
"Baby, come on. What can be so bad that I can't put a smile on your face?" The promise in his voice makes you want to weep. Normally you live for that tone, because it means you're soon going to be on your back with Hop's beard tickling your inner thighs, but right now that really isn't an option.
"Look, I'm exhausted and cranky and I'd be terrible company. I promise you, I'm doing you a favour." Even as you say the words, you're fighting tears of frustration and disappointment.
Hop blows out a long breath, "Alright sweetheart. I hear you. I'll call you later?"
"Okay." You quickly put the phone down before the sob you've been holding in can escape.
You go into the bathroom and depress yourself further by looking in the mirror. Your skin looks shiny, and you have two visible zits on your chin. You know you should probably take a shower, get out of your pyjamas, and stop feeling sorry for yourself, but you feel too crappy to bother. Instead, you return to your blanket on the couch, and the TV.
You must have fallen asleep, because when the knock at the door rouses you, it's almost dark. You're poised to ignore it, but then you hear his voice.
"Baby? It's Hop. Open the door."
You walk to the door but don't open it, shouting out instead, "I told you not to come over!"
"Yeah, and Joyce told me she saw you in Melvalds this morning looking like hell. Are you sick?"
"I'm fine, Hop, I told you I'm just..."
"I'm not leaving until you open the door." His tone tells you he isn't kidding, so you sigh and open the door a crack.
"I'm fine, see? I just don't want company today."
"Nope, sorry." He pushes the door open, your resistance absolutely no match for his strength. "I've spent all afternoon trying to work out what's wrong, and I give up, so you're just going to have to tell me." He must have changed before leaving the station, as he's clad in jeans and a flannel button down rather than his uniform. The fact that he looks so good makes you feel even worse.
You turn away, trying to hide your face as he follows you inside. "It's nothing! I'm just a bit under the weather, okay?"
"So you are sick!" There's so much concern in his voice that it makes you want to cry.
"I have my period, okay!" It comes out a little more hysterically than you intended. "I look like shit, I feel like shit, and I hate that tonight is the one night we were supposed to have together this week, and instead I'm hiding from you because if you see me like this you'll probably never want to spend the night with me again!"
The sound that leaves his mouth is so unexpected that you wheel around to face him. He clearly tries to straighten his face, but it's no good, you heard it.
"Are you laughing at me?" You ask incredulously.
"At you? No. I'm just... Baby, come on." He takes a step towards you. "I'm a grown man. I know about, you know, that stuff. It's not news to me that you're a woman, I've seen you naked. A lot." He's close enough now to put his hand on your arm. "And that's not the only reason I want to spend time with you."
"I know." You mutter reluctantly.
"All of our coffee dates and dinners, and pancakes with Jane, those aren't just marking time. I know you know that." He ducks his head a little to look into your face. "You wanna watch a movie?"
"What?" You look up in surprise.
"A movie. You have videotapes, right? You wanna watch a movie with me? Maybe get a pizza or something?"
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah." He shakes his head a little. "Why is that so hard to believe?"
You shrug. "I don't know. I'm not great company right now."
"Hence, movie."
"Hence?" You start to smile despite yourself.
"Hence." He repeats, straight faced.
"Okay, I guess." You concede ungraciously.
You retreat to the couch while Hop looks through your small collection of videotapes. You're not sure why you're being so grumpy with him, aside from the obvious explanation of PMT. Maybe it has something to do with struggling to believe that he wants to spend time with you when you're not at your best.
"Got it." He holds up a videotape. "I never saw this one."
"Romancing the Stone?"
"Yeah. It's good, right?"
"I like it." You concede.
He comes to sit beside you, and casually wraps his arm around your shoulders. As the movie starts, you resist leaning into him for as long as you can, but his warmth is so comforting, and he smells so good, in the end you give in and let your weight slump against him. He makes a satisfied noise and kisses your hair.
After around forty five minutes, he stirs. "You want something to drink? Tea, maybe?"
"Tea sounds good." You admit, and he gently unwraps his arm from your shoulders, hitting pause on the VCR.
"Stay right there." He goes into the kitchen, and you hear him moving around. Then he puts his head around the door, "You want me to order pizza, or you want some ice cream?"
"I have ice cream?" The thought of it brings your first full smile of the day.
"No... but I can be back here with any flavour you want inside of half an hour."
You can't quite believe it, but you laugh. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"You're my girlfriend. I think it's pretty mandatory." His smirk makes you doubly regret the fact that you can't fool around with him any time soon. But then his face grows serious, "Sweetheart, can you just relax and let me take care of you? Please?"
"Okay." Your shoulders sag as you finally surrender. "I still don't completely understand why you want to, but sure."
"I'll take that." He says easily, "Now put your order in, before I change my mind."
He doesn't just fetch pizza and ice cream - after making you tea to drink while he's gone, of course - later he also feeds you the ice cream while you lay between his legs on the couch, letting the warmth of his belly soothe your aching back. You were expecting it to be awkward, but you've actually never felt this comfortable.
"Okay, sweetheart?" He asks, as he has at regular intervals, and you almost purr in response.
"Mmm. Good. Better."
"Let me know when you get tired."
You shift and look at him over your shoulder, "It's okay if you need to go, I understand."
"I'm not leaving, we planned a sleepover, remember?"
"Yes, but..." You really don't want to spell it out.
"But what?"
"I don't have sex on my period." You say really quickly, grateful to have a good excuse not to look at him when you say it.
"I already worked that one out, baby." He sounds somewhere between amused and puzzled, "You're clearly still okay with me holding you, though, right?"
The sob comes as a surprise to you, forcing its way from your chest and bringing tears to your eyes that you immediately try to fight. Hopper's arms wrap tighter around your middle, pulling you back against his body.
"Hey, come on. It's okay. I got you." His words just make you cry harder, and he turns you so that you can rest your cheek on his chest as you soak the flannel of his shirt. To his credit, he doesn't try to reason with you, or do anything other than stroke your hair and murmur to you reassuringly.
"Sorry." You mumble, when you feel like you're finally cried out.
"Feel better?" He asks, and you realise that you do.
"Yes, actually."
"Good." He kisses the top of your head. "Let's go to bed."
You don't argue this time, just let him walk you to the bathroom, his arm around your shoulders. He sits on the edge of the bath while you wash your face and brush your teeth, and it doesn't even feel weird. You switch places while he does the same, and then you turn to him a little awkwardly.
"Will you wait outside while I, um..." You gesture towards the toilet and he grins and nods.
"Yeah, that I don't need to see."
You laugh, and realise that most of your embarrassment has gone. This is the man you love, and maybe it's okay for him to see you at much less than your best.
When you climb into bed, Hop fits his front to your back, bringing that delicious comforting warmth as his arms wrap securely around you. Your head is pillowed on his bicep, your feet resting on his shins, and you feel enveloped by his heat and strength.
"Okay, baby?" His voice is a low rumble in your ear.
"Mmmm." This time you really do kind of purr, and he chuckles softly.
Then you suddenly become aware of something, biting your lip as you experimentally wiggle your hips a little to check.
"Whoa!" Hop squeezes you in protest. "Cut that out."
You start to giggle, "You have a hard on? Now?"
"Of course I do." He grumbles, "My dick is pressed right up against your gorgeous ass."
And maybe it makes you shallow, but the knowledge that even with your grumpiness and crying, and zits for God's sake, he still gets hard from holding you close... Well that's what puts the smile on your face as you drift into sleep, safely cocooned in Hopper's arms.