#eggsmr

callie wasn’t a patient man. he knows that much.

the constant bouncing of his leg was enough to put a hole in the floor, his nails halfway gone from how much he’s been biting them.

he didn’t know how long he had been sitting there for, how many hours had ticked past without so much as a blink.

the same mantra repeats in his mind, almost like a prayer, ‘angel’s coming back, angel always comes back, angel won’t ever leave.’

ever since he had been released from the hospital, his adjustment back to the outside world has been, well, bumpy.

especially when it came to his partner, his girlfriend, his angel.

he knows that he doesn’t deserve her, the tendencies that he has to just lock her away from the world and throw away the key sometimes scream in his ear.

but he’s learning, he’s adjusting. and she’s helping him.

the first time she had to leave for her job, he almost had a whole meltdown. gripping tightly on her arm, begging her to stay or that he’d tie her down to the bed.

after a few minutes of reassuring that she’s not leaving him and would come back later (aka, making her swear it about fifty times before he was satisfied), he finally let her go. looking out the window like a sad puppy and watching her drive away.

she’d try and tell him that he could do anything he wanted in the house, but he looked at her like she just insulted his second dog.

he would rather die than even think about doing anything without her.

so, he would spend the time she was gone staring at the front door, waiting for the moment she walked through that door.

one hand in his mouth, the other tapping incoherently on his knee, “it’s almost time, it’s almost time, she’s almost home, it’s almost-“ he glanced at the digital clock in the living room.

‘4:45’

a frustrated groan escaped his lips, she doesn’t come home until five o’clock. fifteen minutes away, fifteen minutes too long.

callie fished for his phone, hands shaking as he unlocked it to text her, writing out a long incoherent message to get herself home or that he’ll, ‘go out there himself and kill the first person who even so much as glances at-‘

he pauses mid sentence, fingers hovering over the keyboard. he’s overreacting, he needs to calm down.

with a deep breath in, he shuts his eyes, and releases a long sigh. he deletes the message, turning off his phone and puts it down next to him.

he curls in on himself, talking himself through it. “it’s okay, it’s okay, she always comes back. she loves you. she’s coming back right at five.”

it usually helps, he wants to get better, he wants to be better for her. but it’s hard, callie knows this doesn’t just magically get better overnight. trial and error, but she’s always going to be there for him.

therapy had been a consistent thing he had committed to, the therapist had help him with talking about his feelings in a more healthy way that didn’t involve killing every person who even breathed in the same vicinity as her.

even telling him some ways that he could cope with her being at work. looking at pictures of the two of them, doing artwork for her, or even just being in their room might help.

he already spent the few first hours looking at pictures, and he needed a new sketch book since he filled the other, so he decided to go with the third option.

callie walked to their shared bedroom, opening the door and flopping on her side of the bed.

he nuzzled into her pillow, inhaling her scent and letting out a shaky sigh. with every inhale, his beating heart would grow calmer and calmer, his eyes fluttering shut.

he thrived off her scent, it was proof that she’s here, with him.

after a few moments, he opens his eyes, looking around the room. his gaze drifting along, before he zeroed in on a article of clothing hung on her vanity chair.

he got up, slowly walking towards it and held it up. it was her hoodie, a big giant one that almost passed her knees. he brought it up to his nose, inhaling it and almost collapsing as her scent filled him again.

it was much more prominent than her pillow sheet.

he brought it to his chest tightly, hugging the fabric as he pressed it against his nose. he instantly felt calmer, the scent almost like a drug to him.

he let out a shaky laugh, “angel…my angel.” he whispered, falling back on the bed as his fingers held desperately onto the sweater.

he was so caught up in the euphoria, that he didn’t notice her standing by the doorway with a eyebrow raised.

“callie.” she called out, making him yelp and quickly sit up, sweater still pressed against him.

“….a-angel!” he blushed, hiding her sweater behind him and quickly standing up, “y-you’re home! I-I didn’t hear you come in!” his voice was high, clearly embarrassed.

she walked in, placing her purse down on the dresser, “I called for you when I walked in, is that-“ she points to the clothing behind him, “is that my hoodie?”

callie looked behind him, still slightly gripping its sleeve, before turning back to her with an awkward smile, “…no?”