Andy is mad at Rhysand. Rhysand can't figure out why.

*

Waking up next to his wife is always the best way to start Rhysand's day.

Squinting, he pushes his hand down on the alarm clock near the bedside table and rolls over with a sleepy groan, arm swinging around Andrea's small figure under the covers, snuggling closer to her warmth and scent. Rhysand buries his head on her shoulder and mumbles, "Good morning, sunshine."

"Morning," she says curtly, taking him by surprise. Her voice isn't laced with her usual cheeriness when she wakes up.

Rhysand's eyebrows furrow but he doesn't move or open his eyes. "Give me five minutes," he mutters, easily lulled back to sleep.

When he wakes again, it's from Andrea shaking him harshly. "Rhys, get up, we have to go to work."

He doesn't even get to raise his head before he's pushed on his back with one shove, and then she's gone. Rhysand snuggles back in her pillow, relishing the warmth her body left on the left side of the bed. "Why're you so grumpy, baby?" he croaks. "It's seven in the fuckin' morning."

"I'm not grumpy," Andrea defends herself with a scoff, and Rhysand opens one eye to see her bending down to wash her face in the bathroom. "We just need to go to work. I'll shower first, okay?"

Now, Rhysand sits up against the headboard, features scrunched together. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, "You're showering without me?"

They don't do it every morning, but they do it most mornings. It's why they both come to work in such good moods.

Apparently, this morning is not one of them.

Andrea doesn't bother giving him a response. She strips off her pajamas unabashedly, leaving them on the floor, and steps in the shower.

As much as Rhysand loves the view, he looks away and stands. Sure, he's her husband now and they're married, it shouldn't matter, but Andrea's weird attitude is enough to tell him she doesn't want to be watched or ogled.

So he heads to the bathroom sluggishly to brush his teeth, the sound of the water running echoing across the walls. When he's done, he picks up Andrea's clothes and tosses them in the hamper, and heads to their closet.

The water shuts off, and his wife wraps the towel around herself and enters the closet without looking at him, facing her side of drawers and cabinets.

Rhysand purses his lips and turns around to kiss her on the head. "I'll shower quick," he says. "Wait for me so we can have breakfast together, okay?"

It's usually unsaid—their routine is to shower together, dress together, eat breakfast together, head to work together. It's Rhysand's favorite part of his mornings being married to her.

He doesn't wait for Andrea to respond, and he tosses his outfit on the bed, and goes for his shower.

When he sees Andrea, fully-dressed with makeup on, sitting on the kitchen island on her phone, plate untouched, Rhysand heaves a sigh of relief.

Elena, their cook and helper, gives him a glance. Rhysand clears his throat and shoves his hands inside his pockets. "Good morning, Elena."

"Mr. Harton," she greets politely with a smile, pouring orange juice in their glasses.

"It's Rhys," he corrects for the nth time, smiling back at her, and sits next to Andrea.

Breakfast is quiet. Rhysand fills her plate with pancakes and waffles, and Andrea eats them silently.

Elena glances at Rhysand again with a raised eyebrow. Rhysand shrugs helplessly.

"I'll visit the shelter after work today," Andrea says, pursing her lips. She's still not looking at him. "So don't wait up."

Rhysand swallows thickly. "I can pick you up and wait for you."

"I'll be late," she says with a shake of her head. "Dean can wait for me."

Rhysand purses his lips and nods once. "Okay," he says quietly. "Sunshine...what's wrong? Did I do something wrong? Tell me."

Andrea finally turns to him with a forced smile. "Nothing's wrong, Rhys. Come on, I don't want to be late."

*

"Stop sulking," Sage snaps, hitting him with paper. "We're at work."

Rhysand bites the lollipop in his mouth and glares at him, turning around in his chair. "Did you just hit me?"

"And stop looking at your phone."

"She hasn't messaged me once," Rhysand snaps, moody, also glaring at his phone like it offended him. "The fuck did I do wrong, Jesus Christ."

Sage sighs. "Whatever you did, just fucking apologize, man. There's one thing worse than lovesick Rhys and it's sulky Rhys. Get your head back in the game, please."

Rhysand takes his advice. He doesn't really take Sage's advice for shit, but whatever it is Andrea's mad about, maybe apologizing will make things right.

Because she didn't kiss him when he dropped her off at work. That's...that made him really sad and worried and he can't stop thinking about what he did wrong.

He did a recount of what happened yesterday. They woke up next to each other, showered and dressed together, had breakfast together, went to work together. Andrea sent him a what'd you eat for lunch baby and a see you tonight, my love!!! please don't smoke and kick ass in your meetings <33. Rhysand picked her up from work so they could go to dinner together, they watched a movie as soon as they came home and were dressed for bed, cuddled all night, and then fell asleep.

Did he miss something? If he did, he was fucking asleep.

Still, Rhysand goes to the flower shop near Sterling to buy a small sunflower bouquet after going for a drive-thru for nuggets and fries and three extra gravy. At home, because Andrea said she'll be late coming from the ongoing construction at the shelter, Rhysand showers, dresses, and waits for her.

He sends her a message. Sunshine, don't work too hard. come home for dinner, okay? I'll wait for you. I love you so much

He also contacts Dean, their driver. Dean, please let me know when my wife is on the way home. thanks.

His reply comes quick. Of course, Sir.

It's nearing ten in the evening when Dean does let him know, and it only takes twenty minutes for the security code and fingerprint to beep. Rhysand puts away his laptop and phone and stands with a wary smile. "Hey."

Andrea looks exhausted. Beautiful, always, in the way that makes Rhysand's heart jump even after all these years, but exhausted from work. She looks at him and blinks, and Rhysand's shoulders stiffens when she says quietly, "Hi. I told you not to wait up."

It's not harsh or dismissive like her tone this morning. It's meek and small and...guilty? Rhysand blinks. "I left a message."

"Oh." She hurriedly tosses her bag on the couch and fishes for her phone with wide eyes. "My battery died hours ago, I'm so sorry."

He gives her a tight-lipped smile and says, "S'okay. Come here, I have something for you."

Quietly, Andrea follows him into the dining room, and Rhysand hears her gasp at the sight on the table.

He reaches for the flowers and hands it to her, staring into her eyes. "Sunshine, I'm sorry. Whatever it is that made you...angry with me, disappointed at me, I'm sorry. But please let me know what it is I did wrong so I can do better. Talk to me. That's how marriage works, right?"

Her mouth is wide open, and no sound comes out except for a stutter of, "I—Rhys, I—"

"I really missed you today," Rhysand whispers, bowing his head. "And I was really sad when you didn't kiss me on the way to work, or when you didn't reply when I asked you what you ate for lunch, and I—"

"Oh my God," Andrea whispers, hiding her face in her hands. "Oh my God, baby, no, I'm so sorry."

Rhysand looks at her, and finds his wife at the verge of tears.

He puts down the bouquet and pulls her in for a hug, and he's able to breathe better with her touch on his. "Hey, come on, don't cry."

"I'm so sorry," Andrea sobs, clutching him. "I didn't mean to make you sad, I'm so so sorry."

Rhysand is...he's concerned and confused. Pulling back a bit, he draws his eyebrows together and swipes her tears with his thumb. "Baby, why are you apologizing? I don't understand."

Hysterical, Andrea whines, "I was mad because you cheated on me in my dream!"

Rhysand blinks. "What?"

Andrea makes a half-cry half-groan, covering her face with her hands. "I had a nightmare that you cheated on me," she explains, sniffling, "and I woke up crying in the middle of the night, and I had a bad sleep!"

Rhysand stares at her. "I cheated on you in your dream?"

"Yes!" Andrea says exasperatedly, face scrunched together. "Like, how could dream Rhysand do that to dream Andy? Like—in what universe are you allowed to cheat on me, in what dimension? And God, you had the audacity to be sleeping soundly next to me like dream you didn't break my heart in tiny million pieces—"

Rhysand hangs his head and runs his hands through his hair, and laughs. "Jesus fucking Christ."

"But I'm so sorry!" Andrea squeaks, rushing to hug him around the waist tightly, looking up at him in her tiptoes with a pout. "I'm so sorry I made you sad, baby!"

Rhysand's grinning. "You did that to me on purpose."

His wife shakes her head vigorously, eyes wide. "No, I promise."

"You deprived me of kisses."

Andrea reaches up and kisses him sweetly.

Rhysand narrows his eyes at her. "You owe me more."

"Okay," she says, laughing, forehead bumping into his shoulder. "Okay, but I really am sorry. And my battery really died."

Rhysand rolls his eyes and flicks her forehead. "I told you to bring your battery pack. What if you were in an emergency? Your phone needs to be charged, sunshine, okay? You can't worry me like that."

"Okay, I got it, husband," she says cheerily, mouth wide into a happy grin. Rhysand's heart skips a few beats. "And you got me sunflowers! And nuggets and gravy!"

"No. No nuggets and gravy for you, you're evil."

"Rhys!"

"Wake me if dream me hurts you again. I'll fuck you back to sleep and tell you I love you and only you."

"Rhysand Harton!"

"Andrea Harton," he counters back with a smirk, bending down to kiss her, thumb stroking the tattoo on her wrist. "You are the best part of my day."

"You're mine, too," she answers with a smile, kissing the band on his finger.

*

oh god i missed them so much