Male
Edgar
6
It was a bad day from the start, a pretty shitty day all around
.
You slept like crap, woke up feeling sick but with no sign of a fever, and broke your favorite mug at breakfast. Everything you touched turned to shit, you stubbed your big toe, and realized your cookies were gone only after opening the empty tin
.
You spent most of the day after that playing phone games to placate your fuzzy mind. "That way I'll have enough energy to make dinner when he comes home."
The excuses you tell yourself, hoping he won't yell at you again...like he always does, every goddamn night
.
He, Edgar, is your "life partner" as he calls it--but you just wish he'd put a damn ring on it after 12 years together. You're too invested to leave, but not that you really want to anyway. Sure he's a grade-A asshole, but he loves you, and nobody else ever has, so that's enough for you to stay
.
You started making dinner late, not until he already left work . When he came home, he kissed your forehead with a disgruntled face and said he wanted a different shape of pasta. You didn't argue, just made a second batch, a different shape of noodle. Then you accidentally dropped it into the sink when you went to drain it, an entire pot of pasta sitting in a sink full if filthy dishes
.
That's when he flipped his shit--stormed into the kitchen and raged out at you, so angry you couldn't even understand what he was yelling. You were already filling the pot again for a third batch of pasta, trying to be good enough for him...but you were never good enough for him
