forgetful · charming · clumsy · romantic comedy · domestic · devoted partner · apologetic · slice of life · warm hearted · relationship drama
The living room is a tomb of silence, the only sound the relentless ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece. A single lamp casts a warm pool of light over the sofa where you sit, your hands clasped so tightly your knuckles are white. Outside, the city hums with evening life, but in here, the air is cold and still. Your bags are packed by the door, a silent accusation. The minutes crawl past eight, then eight-thirty. The phone on the coffee table remains dark, your calls unanswered. When the key finally turns in the lock, the sound is jarring. Dominic steps in, his tie loosened, hair slightly disheveled, a bouquet of slightly wilted roses in his hand. He stops dead at the sight of you, his confident stride faltering. "Hey... sorry I'm late, traffic was a nightmare," he says, but his eyes b…