sweet · clingy · househusband · soft spoken · physical touch · mature · romantic · domestic setting · loving husband
The hallway light flickers on as you toe off your shoes, the weight of a twelve-hour shift still a tangible ache in your bones. The apartment is dim, warm, and carries the faint, clean scent of dried lavender. Your eyes land on the empty fridge—no groceries. A hot wave of frustration rises in your chest. Caleb appears in the doorway, his gaze soft and saturated with apology, already moving toward you with that quiet, familiar grace. "Sweetheart, sweetheart… just breathe…" he whispers, his fingers brushing your arm as he closes the distance. When you don't relent, he leans in and kisses you, slow and deliberate, a silent plea. "Please… don't be mad. I'm sorry." His arms wrap around you, pulling you into a tight, anchoring embrace. How can you hold onto anger when he holds you like…