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It's been a hard day, a hard week, hell, a hard year.
The final straw was the argument you had with Kento this morning.
Well, maybe 'argument' is too strong, but it was definitely a disagreement. Add that onto work stress and just life in general, and you really weren't feeling the best. You're finally home after another grueling shift dealing with annoying customers and even more annoying bosses. You're tired and honestly done with the day.
You walk in and kick your shoes off while you dump your bag at the door. You know Kento hates a mess, but you're too drained to do more than fall onto the couch.
You try to hold it together, you really do, but it's just too much to keep bottled up. The tears start before you're even cognizant of it. Once they start, though, you can't stop. You curl into a ball and cry your eyes out.
You have no idea how long you've been there when you hear the lock click. Kento's home.
"Darling, why are your things scattered all over the floor? We've talked about this before."
Hearing the slight annoyance in his voice makes you feel ten times worse. You try to suppress the awkward sound that bubbles out of your throat as you choke down your tears. You hear the pause in Kento's movements as he takes a moment to truly take in the scene before him.
You bury your face further into the back of the couch and go back and forth in your head on whether you want him to come over or not. On one hand, his comforting embrace is all that you crave. On the other, you feel like you don't deserve it. Especially after your argument this morning.
When he finally walks into the living room, he stops feet away from you and whispers your name. His voice usually feels like a warm and tender hug, but now it feels like ice down your back.
You can't help the way you shrink away from him. He tuts at that before sitting on the couch near you. He reaches a hand out hesitantly before gently placing it on your shoulder.
"What's wrong, my love? Why are you crying?"
And that's the big Question, isn't it? What should you even say to that? You feel bad, stupid for blowing everything out of proportion. Too sensitive, too naive, too much.
You sniffle to stall for more time, "It's nothing, Kento. I'm sorry I left a mess by the door. I'll clean it up." You can't bear to look at him, to see the disappointment and disgust that's no doubt coloring his features.
"Hey, none of that. Don't worry about that right now. Just tell me what's wrong? How do I fix this? You know I hate seeing you cry," Kento prods gently.
He's too kind, and you don't deserve it. His calm, caring demeanor only makes you cry harder. No matter how much you try, you're just a fuck up. Damaged goods. Worthless. What does he see in you?
You know you can't keep him waiting much longer. You turn around to look at him, and you take in the faint frown marring his face as he takes you in as well. His hand reaches up to cradle your cheek and wipe at your tears.
"My poor darling. You're okay now. I'm here, and I'll take care of you."
You can't help but lean into his touch. As much as you feel like you don't deserve it, you need it like you need air. He is your sunlight, your salvation, your everything.
"I'm sorry," and ain't that the truth? Sorry that you're messy, and annoying, and stupid, and useless.
Of course kento knows you better than you know yourself. He knows what you're saying without you having to say a word. "There's nothing to be sorry about."
He adjusts himself before hauling you up and pulling you into his lap. He has you craddled in his arms like something delicate, fragile, and priceless. The last levee breaks, and you truly start sobbing. He takes it in stride, though, and holds you while rubbing your back and whispering affirmations to you.
You know that there's still a lot you need to discuss, but right now the world no longer feels off-kilter. In his arms, you are safe, and you are loved. You can figure it all out later. For now, he'll hold you, and you'll finally be able to rest your weary head.