orchiddappy

You had been watching Nulla fiddle with every inch of his outfit for about ten minutes now.

The two of you had agreed to wake up early and start the day with a breakfast date at a nice cafe. It was precisely because of this that you discovered why Nulla gets up so early in general.

Not like it surprised you much, his reasoning tracks for someone so desperate to be perceived.

You groan as you flop back onto the bed, already having been dressed and ready for your date thirty minutes ago. "Pleeeeeeease, can we go already? You look fine..." You whine, turning your head to look at him through the mirror's reflection.

Nulla meets your gaze in the glass and grins, before going right back to adjusting his tie. "I'm afraid "fine" just won't cut it, mi vida. Besides, don't you want me to look perfect for our date?"

You roll your eyes at the smugness in his response. As if he couldn't easily change his appearance with a wave of his hand; he was obviously just doing this to piss you off. As you watch him give his outfit an umpteenth once-over in the mirror, your irritation spikes.

Though it's hard to stay mad at him forever, regrettably.

Your idle gaze drifts to his tie, which he adjusts for about the third time in two minutes. You observe the way the knot sits on his collar, just below his trachea...

And it gives you an idea.

With a huff, you push yourself to your feet and make your way to the mirror beside him. His eyes dart to the side before he turns to face you entirely. You take the loose end of his tie in your hands.

"Yes, cariño, what do you wa— aghk—!"

The moment you tug on his tie, he staggers towards you, one hand flying up to his neck as the knot abruptly squeezes his throat, briefly choking him.

The both of you are left staring at one another in shock.

Clearly you neglected the fact that pulling on the tie tightens it.

"...What was that for?"

You could only stare at him, dumbfounded by how wrong that went. "I'm so sorry..." You mumble, releasing his tie and lowering your gaze to your feet in embarrassment.

Just as you're about ready to just absorb into the floor with shame, a laugh— genuine and infectious, erupts from his chest.

"Just when did you get so bold?!"

Your eyes widen in surprise, expecting a scolding at the very least. It isn't long before you're swept up in Nulla's arms and pulled down onto the bed. He lets out a giddy squeal against the top of your head as he holds you close.

After a few moments of being practically squeezed to near death, he finally releases you, letting you flop onto your back on the bed. Both your clothes have immediately become rumpled and creased as a result of the sudden hug.

Nulla sighs as he looks down at his formerly pristine outfit, now wrinkled due to his overexcitement.

"Oh, this won't do," He laments teasingly, "I'll have to start all over now."

"Nooooooo..."

Because it takes Nulla another thirty minutes to decide on an outfit and change, your supposed breakfast date ends up turning into brunch.

Word count: 552

Something was very, very wrong.

Your skull pounds with the threat of an oncoming headache as you stare blankly at your computer screen, having made minimal progress on your work. You probably typed out four versions of the same sentence before scrapping the whole paragraph altogether.

You felt sick.

Not the kind of sick that left your gut turning and you bedridden for at least two days, though. No, this was an entirely different kind of sick. The kind that enclosed your whole mind, seeping into every sulcus until it had ingrained itself as a part of you.

Perhaps a more accurate descriptor would be to say you were stressed.

So much so that it began to concern a certain owner of the void.

"Mi vida, you've been staring at that screen for nearly three hours straight," Nulla says, setting a small plate of something you can't draw your gaze from your computer to see, "why not take a break?"

"I don't need to take a break, I need to finish this," You mumble, exhaustion grating at your vocal cords.

"Sure you don't," Nulla mutters, gently resting a hand on your shoulder. He bends at the waist to observe what you've been so preoccupied by. "You know, your work will still be there even if you leave it alone for, say... thirty minutes?" He suggests, a slight smile in his voice.

"No," You groan, rubbing your temples with your thumb and forefinger, "if I leave now, I'll end up losing my train of thought..."

"Doesn't seem like you've been on that train to begin with," He softly quips, noting the empty space below your last paragraph. The cursor blinks, patiently awaiting your input.

Taunting you.

You shrug his hand off your shoulder with a huff and lean your elbows on the desk, eyes zeroing in on that stupid blinking vertical line on your screen. "Write something, damn you," it would probably say.

"I just want to be done with this," You sigh, burying your face in your hands, "I've been working on this for a week, I just want this to be over with already, I'm so sick of fussing over it, I'm sick of staring at these same blocks of text, I'm so tired—"

"You're shaking."

Nulla's concerned remark abruptly pulls you from your spiral. Were you shaking? You hadn't even noticed you were venting your exhaustion to begin with. Your gaze drifts down to your hands.

Sure enough, they're trembling like leaves in the wind.

"Oh," You mumble, "I am."

Nulla watches your expression, heart sinking as he sees your gaze gradually blank as you stare at your trembling hands.

"Okay, I think that's enough for today..."

He reaches over and shuts down your computer before he takes your hands in his, rubbing gentle circles over the backs of them with his thumbs.

"You have done enough," He whispers, eyes trained on your face in hopes of meeting your gaze.

At those simple words, you can't help but wince at the heavy feeling that settles in your throat. Had you really done enough? Did you really deserve to rest tonight?

As if to answer your internal questions, Nulla silently pulls you against his chest, into a much-needed hug.

"Let's take a break, okay?"

word count: 545 words

You didn't want to get up that morning.

The bed felt especially comfortable for some reason: the pillows and blanket especially fluffy and downy, the mattress cradling your body in the best places, and the sheets cooled by the morning breeze blowing in from the open window.

Such luxury only made it all the more difficult to want to leave the safety of the bed and face the real world.

"Cariño, as adorable as you look like this, you have to get up. It's already 10 in the morning."

Nulla stood over you at your bedside, arms crossed and face bearing an expression caught between fondness and firmness. You could hear the impatient tap-tap-tapping of one of his oxfords against the floor as he waited for you to finally wake.

"Five more minutes..." You groggily mumble, rolling over to face away from him.

"If I give you five more minutes, you'll take five more hours," He says, reaching over to tug at the blankets, hoping to rouse you from your sleep-wake limbo state.

You simply whine and grip the blanket tighter in resistance, burying your face in it as if that would give you more strength. "Nooooo..."

After a few back-and-forth rounds of tugging from both ends of the blanket, Nulla sighs and relents, releasing the blanket and placing his hands on his hips in exasperation.

"Alright, so you're going to be this way, are you? I see how it is."

You smile to yourself, thinking you've succeeded in convincing him to let you have a little more time in bed...

Until you suddenly feel his weight upon you when he flops down, laying his body over yours and splaying out like a starfish.

"Nulla—!"

You attempt to wriggle him off of you, but he simply chuckles, your struggles completely useless against him. "You want to stay in bed so bad, fine! You're not going anywhere, then~"

You groan, realizing you've gotten into a fight you can't possibly win. "Fine, fine, I'm up! Get off already!"

Nulla laughs, the sound coming straight from his chest as he rolls over onto his back and lays beside you. He sighs as his laughter dies down, turning his head to face you.

"You're adorable when you pout~"

You huff and push his face away, to which he reacts with an "Ack—" and a laugh.

"Come, mi vida. Let's have breakfast."

word count: 396 words

"That's the last time I let you have anything deep-fried..."

Those words were whispered apologetically as Nulla steadied your shoulders while you hunched over the toilet, puking up pretty much all of the food you had at dinner.

It had been such a nice night too; the two of you decided to eat out for a change of scenery. You had good food and a lovely conversation with it. What a shame the date ended with you slumped against Nulla's shoulder as you nauseously wobbled through the void and back to your shared home.

Which is what brought you here, shuddering and gripping the edge of the toilet for dear life as Nulla rubbed gentle circles onto your back.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, wiping your lips with the back of your hand, which Nulla immediately wipes off with a damp towel, "I probably ruined our date, huh?"

Upon hearing you blame yourself for supposedly souring the night, he pouts as he wipes down your face with the towel. "Oh, hush, mi vida, don't you say such things," He says, carefully wiping each and every inch of your features, "besides, I'm glad I get to take care of you like this...

"Not that I'm happy you got indigestion, but just that I can do this for you afterwards." He adds, a sheepish chuckle escaping him.

You can't help but laugh at his little— unnecessary but still cute— correction, already feeling a little better since you arrived home.

Once Nulla ensures that you're all cleaned, he carefully pulls you to your feet, guides you to the bedroom and helps you settle into bed, pulling the duvet over you and tucking the sides in. "I'm going to get you some water, wait right here for me, okay?" He says with a fond smile before turning on his heel to head downstairs.

You sit in silence for a few moments, the only sounds accompanying you being your slow breathing and Nulla's faint humming from the kitchen.

Then your gaze travels and settles on your phone, sitting idly on the end table to your right.

Tempting.

Surely a few minutes of doomscrolling wouldn't hurt while you awaited Nulla's return.

You stretch out your right arm, reaching for your phone, only for the surface of the table to suddenly split open, swallowing up your poor phone.

"Hey—!"

You sit upright in shock, only to be met with the sight of Nulla's smug grin, his left hand holding a glass of water while one of his summoned arms drops your phone into his right.

"Nice try, cariño," He teases, pocketing the device before making his way to your bedside, "but screen time is the last thing you need when you're nauseous." He nudges the glass into your hands and pushes the base of it up towards your mouth in an encouraging gesture to have a sip.

When you finally do drink, the smugness in his smile softens into something akin to relief. His hand traces a comforting circle on your blanketed knee. "You should probably eat something," He starts, watching your face for any signs of further sickness, "your stomach must be empty after..." He cocks his head towards the bathroom door.

You shake your head, set the glass down on the end table, and settle back under the covers. "Too tired," You mumble, more to yourself than to him, "I'll just make up for it at breakfast tomorrow."

At your response, Nulla simply sighs, re-tucking the blanket into your sides. "Alright, I'll make sure you hold yourself to that." He says, voice fond as he runs a gentle hand over your cheek, touch reverent as always.

After a while, your eyes blink open to stare up at him, still sitting up beside you. His brow raises in confusion at your expectant gaze.

"What?"

Without breaking your gaze, you flip over the blanket on your left and rapidly pat the empty space on the bed beside you, almost the same way you'd tell a dog "come here", really.

Nulla tilts his head in slight puzzlement, but you soon see the exact moment it clicks in his head.

"Well, who am I to refuse such insistence~?"

Without hesitation, he toes off his shoes and lays beside you, the bed shifting under his weight as he pulls you into his arms.

Against the warmth of his embrace, your body finally finds rest.

Word count: 733

new tumblr YIPPEE

full sketch i used in my pfp