Work Text:
You awoke to the sound of…nothing? Peace and quiet were all that could be heard throughout your home. That’s odd, you couldn’t remember the last time that you hadn’t been awoken on a sunny Saturday morning by anything other than the soft thudding of small feet creeping into the room, or the laughter of your husband and kids. Turning over in bed, you expected your hand to bump into Phillip’s warm, broad back, but it was met by cold sheets instead.
Cracking open one eyelid, you confirmed that his side of the bed was, in fact, empty. Still empty. He must not have made it upstairs. He’d promised you the night before that he would come to you in just a little while. When he found that you were far too tired to keep up with the marathon of Disney movies he and the kids had started. They’d been playing back to back since you finished making dinner; and as much as you loved the fact that he’d been enjoying himself, you could barely keep your eyes open by the time he put in Fantasia. Thirty minutes later you awoke to Phillip kneeling in front of your spot on the sofa. Your son and daughter sleeping peacefully in the nest of pillows that they’d gleefully piled on top of their father earlier in the evening.
“Hey Doll,” He’d whispered against your cheek, “Why don’t you go upstairs? I’ll finish up here and join you.”
You nuzzled into him, failing to stifle a yawn. “No, Philly, it’s okay. I can help you.”
He took your other cheek in his palm, turning you so that your foreheads rested softly against one another. A love-drunk gaze found yours and took in every detail of your sleepy face. Whispering your name again, he gathered you in his arms. You could feel the way that his deep chuckle rumbled through both your bodies. In all the years you’d known each other, nothing has ever made you feel safe the way that he could. The two of you were anchors, always grounding one another securely through every storm and trial.
“Go to bed, Doll.” He pressed, kissing gently at the corner of your eyebrow. “I’ll be there soon. I promise.”
“Alright, Philly. I love you.”
“I love you more.”
With goodnight kisses placed softly onto two little heads of dark hair and a third on the matching one that now had just a few silver streaks, you made your way upstairs.
You tugged on your favorite sweater from the open drawer,–that one of Phillip’s that you’d been stealing for the last 10 years–and gathered up the laundry basket before padding down the stairs.
He was exactly where you knew you’d find him.
Right back in the middle of the pile.