Work Text:
You were focused, you were really focused, but then you realized that Tyler wasn’t there.
He wasn’t in the crowd, wasn’t in the parking lot and, suddenly, you weren’t focused anymore. Your pitches were off. When you would have made it to third, you only made it to first.
And your teammates were pissed when all of that caused a loss of one of the most important games of the season. How could you? They asked. You’re almost as bad as football players who think they’re going to lose if their girlfriend isn’t there. They said.
Your heart broke when you weren’t invited out to the bar after, but you knew it was best to go home, to change out of your dusty, sweaty uniform and bathe. You knew it was a good idea because Tyler wasn’t home when you arrived and it gave you time to lock the bathroom door, play Fall Out Boy as loud as possible and just soak in bubbles after a quick shower.
That was where Tyler found you, picking the lock before settling his body between the tub and the wall before looking at you with the puppy dog eyes that convinced you to move in with him. But you pointedly ignored him, sinking deeper into the bubbles until it was only your eyes above the surface, squinting to avoid Tyler’s gaze.
“I’m sorry,” He said over the music, moving to turn it down, “I didn’t mean to miss your game.”
“You didn’t miss much,” You moved to speak, “I lost the game, because, you know, I was distracted. I wondered if you had gotten hurt or not, but of course you were probably just at the studio. Again.”
Tyler just said your name slowly.
“You know, I thought you were dead for awhile. Took a softball to the stomach because of that. Got a walk, though. I guess that’s the only good thing I did during the game.” Tyler sighed and stood, running his hands through his hair before heading for the bathroom door.
“I’ll be in our bedroom, for when you’re done. We can talk or sleep or whatever you want.” And what you wanted was to be pissed at Tyler, but he was so sweet, so caring, you melted a little bit inside. Tyler shut the door and you sunk back down, closing your eyes, before completely submerging yourself below the water. It was brief, but for a moment your head spun and you were lost in the sound of water rushing around you, rushing your pain and sorrow away.
When you got out you shivered, finding that in your time submerged that Tyler had left one of his tank tops and underwear for you to change into. And you did, and they warmed your body and you stepped out into your bedroom finding Tyler laying on his stomach, under the duvet, nearly asleep. He peeked up when you entered and you decided that he had probably toiled long enough on his way home, picking the lock, sitting next to you in the tub. So you crawled into bed with Tyler, pressing your cheek to his shoulder blade while your hand rubbed circles into his bare, lower back. Tyler sighed.
Your body was frozen to the bone but Tyler was your warmth, like you were winter and he was summer but you remember the exact moment you had become winter: the moment the softball collided with your stomach and you realized Tyler wasn’t there.
But there, with Tyler underneath you, apologizing under his breath, you weren’t winter anymore. You were thawing, turning into spring, blooming into summer.
And you loved Tyler for it. Even though he screwed up.
Because he always took your winter and made it summer.