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Feyre could have cried as she glanced at the time and saw that it was already 5:30 p.m. She’d only been meaning to watch a few TikTok’s before she turned her full attention to the assignment that was due in three days, «to get it out of her system» she’d told herself, but that had been an hour and a half ago.
Now, the sun was already setting, the deadline one day closer, and all she’d accomplished was 75 words and a source that was dubious at best. It looked like she’d have to pull an all-nighter. Again.
Never mind her boyfriend, Rhys, would be home from work at any moment, and she’d promised to make dinner, since she was staying home today.
The day had been planned perfectly; wake up early, make a healthy breakfast, get started on the assignment, work for a few hours, do some yoga around lunch, get back to the assignment, be halfway done just in time to make dinner, have dinner ready right when Rhys came home, then spend the rest of the evening relaxing because she could finish her paper tomorrow.
Instead, she’d turned off her alarm and slept for another two hours, had a chocolate bar for breakfast and decided she would quickly tidy up her art supply closet before getting started.
The cleaning had at least been successful, but it had led to her finding an unfinished painting she’d discarded ages ago and forgotten about. Looking at it again had sparked a rare inspiration, one she just had to take advantage of, and that’s how she’d spent her whole day painting instead of writing the very important, very urgent final assignment for one of her college classes.
As Feyre heard Rhys’ car pulling up to the driveway of their house, she returned to her laptop, panic rising at all the open tabs. She started scrolling down the first one, a scientific article about creative arts helping dementia patients, but there were so many words, and she couldn’t grasp their actual meaning, and it was all so overwhelming-
«Hey Feyre, darling, how was your day?»
Feyre startled, looking up to find Rhys standing on the other side of the table. She hadn’t even noticed him coming in.
«Fine,» she lied, giving him a brief, unconvincing smile before returning her attention to the screen in front of her. She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, but she still tried to hide the way her whole body shook, forcing back the tears pressing behind her eyes.
«How’s the assignment going?» The question was hesitant, as if Rhys knew she was seconds away from breaking.
Feyre stayed silent, eyes locked on her computer as one tear managed to escape, then another, then another.
It was the way Rhys said her name, filled with such care and love, that finally broke her entirely.
As she sobbed, Feyre cursed herself for acting like this. She had no right to cry when it was all her own fault. She could have started earlier today, could have started weeks ago and been done already! But no, she had to postpone it over and over again until the very last moment.
Feyre felt Rhys’ strong arms band around her, pulling her towards his broad chest as she shook with tears. Being enveloped in his scent, his warmth, usually did wonders to calm and comfort her, but this time, all Feyre could think was how she didn’t deserve to be comforted.
She was 23, for fuck’s sake! She should be able to do her simple assignment without breaking down like this. It made her feel pathetic, how she couldn’t just suck it up and force herself to work, even if it was a little boring. She was nothing more than a child with a temper tantrum.
«I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not true, not any of it.» Feyre sobbed harder at the words whispered in her ear, how Rhys knew her better than anyone.
It was true, though. She had known how it would end, every time she put off the assignment, because this was how it always ended. Except this time, she wouldn’t pull through at the last minute. The paper was too long and complex for that.
She’d gotten through all of high school and almost all of college by relying on that panic that always came when the deadline was near, but this time it had come too late. Feyre had pulled countless all-nighters, had written for hours and hours, forgetting to even eat, had delivered assignments with only minutes to spare, but 20k words in two days would be a miracle, even for her.
Her breaths turned frantic as the anxiety built and built, but Rhys only held her tighter, a soothing hand stroking up and down her back. All the while, he whispered words of comfort to her.
«I’ve got you, darling.»
«It’ll be alright.»
«You’re doing great.»
«I’m so proud of you.»
When her breathing had finally calmed down, Feyre lifted her head from where it was buried against Rhys’ neck, the pristine, white shirt he wore now stained with tears. She met his violet eyes, filled with such love and concern, and mouthed a quiet «thank you».
Rhys lifted his hand to brush away a stray tear, then kept tracing her face with a featherlight touch. «It’s okay, darling. You know you can’t help it.»
Feyre nodded, sniffling once. She did know that, deep down, but that didn’t make it much easier. Especially when she saw how most of her classmates made studying schedules and always came well-prepared and actually got started within reasonable time.
It also wasn’t an excuse. She still had to do the assignment.
«I’m sorry I didn’t make you dinner.»
Rhys brushed a finger over her lower lip. «You have nothing to apologize for, my love.»
Placing her head back on Rhys’ shoulder, exhausted from all the crying, she voiced what really plagued her. «Maybe I don’t have what it takes to be an art therapist».
«Don’t say that,» Rhys shook his head. «You will make an amazing art therapist. I know it, because I know you.» He placed a kiss on the top of her head, and Feyre felt a few silent tears escape.
«You just have to deliver this one, final assignment, that I know you can do.» Feyre was about to voice a protest, but Rhys continued. «And even if you barely pass this one, it won’t matter, because no part of that job requires you to write 20k-word papers.»
«Rhys…»
«I have seen you when you care about something, love. You’re unstoppable.»
Feyre lifted her head once more, and the love and adoration shining in those violet eyes had her heart nearly bursting. She pressed a kiss to his lips, mouthing «I love you» against them.
«I love you too, darling,» Rhys whispered. They remained in that close embrace a little longer, savoring each other’s company for a few more moments, then Rhys shoved his chair away from the dining table, standing in one fluid motion, Feyre still wrapped around him like a koala.
He walked over to the kitchen, then deposited her on the counter. «Do you need me to make a plan, love?»
Feyre briefly closed her eyes. It had taken her years to learn how to ask for help, and that there was no shame in accepting it, but she still struggled sometimes.
Rhys waited patiently, taking her hands in his, and when Feyre once more looked at the love of her life, she gave him a quiet «Yes, please.»
It helped, when everything in her head was overwhelming and chaotic, to be given simple orders, specific tasks she could fulfill.
Smiling softly, Rhys said, «Alright. I’ll make dinner, and in the meantime, you take a warm bath.» Baths had always helped clear her head. «Afterwards, when you’ve eaten and you can think better, we’ll sit down together, and I’ll help you make an outline so you know where to start.»
Feyre nodded, feeling a little more motivated.
«Then tomorrow, if you want, you can join me at work, sit in my office and write there, or I can work from home, whatever you think is best.»
Rhys placed his palms against her cheeks, and Feyre felt the hint of a smile tug at her lips. «Okay. I can do that.»
«That’s my girl,» Rhys grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Feyre hopped down from the counter, her body now feeling lighter than it had in days, and headed towards the bathroom as Rhys started rummaging through the fridge.
«Feyre?» She halted right before the entrance to the hallway, turning to look at her boyfriend.
He fixed his violet gaze on her, full of determination. «It will be alright.»
And maybe it actually would.