✙ 𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖓 𝖘𝖑𝖎𝖕𝖕𝖞 ✙

He's not quite sure what set him off scrubbing everything down as feverishly as he had for the last few hours but his arms are tired and his lungs are weak from the scouring chemicals he had just rinsed down the drain.

Dennis will refuse to admit when he's overwhelmed and these days it seems he's always overwhelmed. His sole existence is to bear the load when Kevin's overwhelmed - there's no space for his own chaos.

He hates this. Hours spent in the kitchen and though he knows it's clean because he's the one who cleaned it, it still looks so dirty and god forbid you or one of the others got sick from something he missed. Dennis sighs and his back twinges with pain when his chest rises. He doesn't cry, but he wants to.

The door opens and he hears you shuffle out of your shoes in the entry way, something you do to accommodate his obsessive-compulsive disorder. "I'm home!" Your voice calls out. "Dennis? Patricia?" You're not sure who else is home with you until you round the corner and see Dennis standing in the kitchen. "Hey!" Your smile quickly drops when you notice that something's not right. This isn't his usual daily clean.

"Oh Dennis... Are you okay?" You ask, walking towards him and reaching out to touch his forearm. "Please don't touch me-" He jerks back from you, brow furrowed with frustration. "I... I'm sorry." Dennis apologizes, his expression immediately falling when he notices the hurt in your eyes. "It's just.."

You shake your head. "No, it's okay. I get it." You had just walked in the door, touching him now without washing your hands first was too much for him. The faucet switches on with a clunk and you begin washing your hands, a gratuitous demonstration more for him than anything else. "I didn't mean anything by it." You feel his fingertips brush against your elbow.

"I know you didn't." It's obvious that he's struggling today. You dry your hands thoroughly before turning to touch his cheek. A single shared touch and a glance into his tired eyes says all that needs to be said.

It takes some convincing but you manage to get him out of the kitchen and into the shower where he seems to have calmed down once he re-emerges into the bedroom. You're reclined against one of the pillows, scrolling through your phone and he takes a moment to gaze at you. Dennis climbs into bed beside you, pulling the duvet up over the both of you and wrapping an arm around your torso.