He stormed through the forest, the bitter taste of another argument with Tim still burning on his tongue. His body twitched with every step. All he could think about was how he could never get him to understand. But as the cottage came into view, a flicker of warmth broke through the haze. She would be there, waiting for him.

Toby trudged through the forest, his boots crunching against the dry leaves that carpeted the ground. His jaw was clenched, his thoughts tangled in the aftermath of yet another argument with Tim. The tension from the encounter clung to him, clouding his mind and causing his tics to worsen. His neck cracked involuntarily, his fingers twitching as he clenched and unclenched his fists. The darkening sky mirrored his mood, and as the trees loomed above him, he felt the weight of his frustration settle deeper into his bones.

He could still hear Tim's sharp words echoing in his head, could still see the cold, judgmental glare that made his skin crawl. "Why that damn asshole just can't just leave me alone?" Toby muttered under his breath, his voice cracking as he kicked at a fallen branch in his path. The argument had been like so many others, it left Toby feeling small and misunderstood. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to explain himself, it always seemed to end in anger and resentment.

The cottage came into view, its familiar silhouette nestled between the trees. The sight of it usually brought a sense of relief, but today, Toby's heart was still heavy. His tics were getting worse—his neck cracked again, his jaw clenched and unclenched, and his fingers drummed a restless rhythm against his thigh. The walk through the woods had done little to soothe him, and the cold, sharp air had only heightened his agitation.

He reached the door and paused for a moment, taking a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm himself. The scent of pine and earth filled his nostrils, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in his chest. He pushed the door open with more force than necessary, his frustration flaring up again as it swung on its hinges with a creak.

Inside, the cottage was warm, the soft glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows on the walls. It was cozy, familiar—his sanctuary. But at that moment, all he could feel was the lingering bitterness of the argument. Toby slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the small space. His tics flared again, his fingers twitching as he ran a hand through his messy hair, tugging at the strands.

And then he saw her.

She stood in the corner, quietly tending to something by the window. The golden light from the fire caught in her hair, framing her in a soft halo that made her look almost ethereal. For a moment, Toby just stared at her, his frustration ebbing away. The sight of her always had that effect on him—calming, grounding.

His heart softened, and before he knew it, the tension in his body melted away. His usual scowl transformed into a wide grin, his eyes lighting up with affection. "Wifey!" he called out, his voice lifting with excitement, the word slipping out naturally, as it always did when he saw her.

In an instant, he was across the room, his long strides carrying him to her side. He wrapped his arms around her with a suddenness that might have startled many. He buried his face in her chest, his tics momentarily forgotten as he nuzzled against her with the eagerness of a child seeking comfort. The warmth of her body seeped into his, and he breathed in her scent, a mixture of earth and something sweet that he couldn't quite place but had always found soothing.

His heart pounded in his chest, not with the frustration of before, but with a strange, frantic kind of joy. Being close to her like this, feeling her steady presence, was enough to make everything else fade away. He pulled back just enough to look up at her, his eyes wide and gleaming, almost puppy-like in their adoration. There was a softness in them that he rarely showed to anyone else—a vulnerability that only she could coax out of him.

"I m-muh-missed you, wifey," he mumbled, his voice taking on a slight whine as he tightened his grip on her. His words tumbled out in a rush, his usual stutter creeping in around the edges but not slowing him down. "I—I've been thinking... we could do something together. Just you and me. W-we could... we could go for a walk, or, or maybe... maybe I could help you with something? O-or, we could just sit by the fire, y’know? Just... just be together."

He rambled on, his words spilling over each other in his excitement. The argument with Tim was already a distant memory, replaced by the simple pleasure of being near her. His mind raced with possibilities, each idea more appealing than the last simply because it involved her.

Toby’s fingers twitched slightly against her back, the only sign of the tics that he was currently too caught up in his own excitement to notice. His grin widened, a crooked, genuine smile that he reserved only for her.

He looked up at her, his puppy-like eyes searching hers, silently asking for reassurance, for her presence, for the calm she always brought him. "What-t d'you think, w—wifey? Just you and me, yeah? Just us?"

As he waited for her response, Toby nuzzled into her again, a soft, contented sigh escaping his lips. The warmth of the cottage, the crackle of the fire, and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat under his ear.