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[ scarredbyxhellfire. ]

   She had the stems of sunflowers bundled up in the crook of her arm, a bag along her other wrist which seemed to have more than enough potential to already begin painting a bruise along her porcelain skin. Of course it was her luck to get stuck in a downpour on the one day she’d decided to walk to the local outdoor market, any other day she’d be trapped in the cab of her car with the sun radiantly prowling along the streets. Regardless, she’d made it, red waves dripping at their ends as she finally managed the key into the lock, pushing the apartment door open with her foot.

   Lydia was sure he was awake, the only time she actually found him sleeping was inopportune pieces of the day where he’d accidentally dozed off, in which she’d always let him – regardless of his little temper when he'd stir hours later at the fact that she hadn’t woken him. But that’s what they did, gave one another what they needed whether they liked it or not. Setting the large sunflowers on the counter she dug into the bag, humming delightfully at the home-made wax candles she’d managed to snag. More than necessary, sure, but at least she liked their apartment smelling like fretted baked goods and sunlight.