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How long does it take before someone gets so used to stress and worry that they can’t tell when they and they aren’t?
At one point, he had stopped caring enough to ask himself.
His fear was there every time they were late, and all that mattered was that they were late coming home and they weren’t answering their phone.
They weren’t there.
Not at home.
The breeze of his incessant panic flew through the air, zipping back and forth and nearly knocking a picture of the two of them and their friends over. He tensed and immediately willed his whirlwind to pick it up and gently set it back down.
Not picking up.
He took a deep breath and opted to sit down so he wouldn’t continue to pace.
How many hours had it been since they had been gone?
Lasko tapped his fingers against the cool marble of the island countertop, feeling the swirls of air that flew free from his veins and whipped wildly around his face.
3 hours.
He clenched his fist and just decided to put his head down in hopes that it would do something to calm his festering anxiety.
No response.
Though that did little, he did squeeze his eyes shut and tried his best to ward off the thoughts of any possibilities that weren’t them coming home and him hugging the ever loving life out of them.
The prospects of their pain gently danced over his skin, leaving burning prickles in their wake.
Hurt?
Lasko took a deep breath and tensed every part of his body. He dug his nails into his palms, the sting of it only making the pain in his heart sink deeper and deeper into the crevices of his burning worry.
They’ll be home.
They always are.
He released his breath; his muscles sank with it.
The breeze slowed, and it rustled his hair as it comforted him.
There was definitely some situational irony in the way that the wind, a free spirit that did literally whatever it wanted to and couldn’t be held down by the likes of attachment, was tamed like a domesticated animal as soon as Lasko really needed it to.
Lasko pondered if there was anything he could do to check on them or bring them home.
Nothing.
His lip trembled, and he sighed shakily.
He hated how he wouldn’t be so worried about them if they hadn’t been put in such dangerous situations.
Of course they didn’t do anything to provoke said situations, but that didn’t mean that he could help the aching regret of letting them leave the house that throbbed in his chest.
Guilt hurts when you know it’s not your fault.
Lasko jumped up immediately when he heard someone’s footsteps race towards the door, while keys desperately tried to fit into the doorknob’s lock.
He nearly knocked his stool over when he stood up and ran over to the door as it opened.
The Freelancer stood there, breathing heavily and leaning against the door to catch their breath. Lasko exhaled every atom of air in his body, and he felt his eyes well up with tears as he took in all their okay-ness.
“You’re okay.” He whispered breathlessly.
“I am so sorry I’m late! I did not mean to fall asleep as I was closing up, but I closed my eyes and waited until I was allowed to leave, and when I opened them it was like three hours after I was supposed to leave, and thank fucking god I had already closed everything because I would have been so confused waking up. Though being awake and confused probably would have been better than being so late, I swear I rested my eyes for like two seconds! I ran straight here as soon as I looked at the time, and I would’ve called or something but my phone died because I fucked up the battery by using it on the charger and fuck I’m-”
Lasko chuckled and let his relieved tears fall as he pulled them in for a kiss.
Perfectly fine.
The Freelancer dropped their bag and crushed him in their hold, their lips desperately expressing their own guilt while his fought just as hard to apologize.
They gently pushed him away so they could continue to breathe, and he opted to rest his head on their shoulder. They breathed shakily and pulled him closer, resting their head on his.
“I’m sorry, I knew I had nothing to worry about,” He mumbled to them, barely audible as they pulled him even closer. “But it’s been a year and…and I just…” He sniffled and pressed a gentle kiss to the crook of their neck.
“I get it,” The Freelancer whispered back as they rubbed their hand up and down his back. “If you didn’t come home after a certain time I’d be worried too. I’m proud of you for managing to stay so calm all things considered.”
Lasko opened his eyes and blushed, feeling the embarrassment of having made an accidental mess reach his ears.
“U-uhh…a-about that.” He laughed nervously, and the Freelancer broke into laughter, shoulders shaking happily against him. He smiled at the laugh he adored more than any song. Nothing would drip into his ears as pleasantly as their laugh.
He hummed fondly and kissed their neck again. They decided to stay that way for a little longer before they went to check on the mess that he made.
“I’m glad you’re home.” He whispered, burying his face in their neck once more and breathing in their presence as easy as air. Easier, if anything.
“I’m glad you were here.” They whispered back, gently running their fingers through the ends of his hair. He shivered and looked up, realizing the door was still open. He blushed and looked at the side of their face awkwardly.
He gently moved forward, making them move to pull away. He muttered out a quick “no” and pulled them closer while he gently walked back over to the door. He raised one hand to gently shut it and lock it.
They laughed and exhaled warmly against the skin on his shoulder. “You’re so considerate. I would have left it open all night because you’re so distracting.”
“Are you that eager to leave me again?” Lasko joked, snorting quietly when the Freelancer squeezed him tighter. They shook their head and he hid his dazed smile by burning it into their flesh; a reminder to them that he wouldn’t think of their relationship as such a thing ever again.
“Nope, just too eager to be with you again.”