Greta woke up tired. Her insomnia kept her up most of the night, tossing and turning. Thankfully it was Saturday, and both she and Carson had the day off. Carson’s arm was wrapped around her, warm and snug.
Carson felt Greta shift. Which, if she was being honest, Carson had been in and out of sleep, waking every once and a while when Greta stirred. She knew her girlfriend didn't sleep well, and some nights were better than others. Carson pressed a kiss to Greta's shoulder, through the soft fabric of her shirt.
"Morning, love" Carson whispered. She felt Greta press closer, as she placed another kiss against her shoulder. "Rough night?" Greta nodded, coupled with a frustrated sigh.
"I'm so tired" Greta's words were soft and muffled against the pillows. This was the fourth night in a row she hadn't slept well, and it was really taking its toll.
"I'm sure you are. Let me go make some coffee, and we can take today really easy." as Carson started to pull away, Greta whimpered.
"We had things to do today, though. Errands." Greta hesitated, "Please don't go yet…" she hated feeling needy like this. She felt frustrated, irritable from exhaustion that made her emotions feel big and clumsy.
"It can all wait, love. We're resting today." Carson's tone was firm and gentle. "I'll even get my favorite flannel shirt out for you" Greta loved that shirt. It was huge on Carson, she had to cuff the sleeves several times to keep them from covering her hands, the dark green cotton draped over her frame. On Greta though, it was perfectly oversized and loose in all the right ways, the fabric buttery soft and broken in. Greta loved the way it always smelled like Carson, and a hint of her perfume, citrusy and warm.
Carson was soon busy with coffee and breakfast, Greta got up slowly, hoping a hot shower would help the fatigue she felt. The steam permeated the small bathroom as she undressed and stepped in. The hot water felt good, turning the tops of her shoulders pink. She scrubbed at her face, eyes closed, sure that some residual mascara was probably streaked across her cheeks.
"Hi baby" Carson had come in, gently opening the frosted glass shower door, cool air rushing in through the small opening.
Greta shivered, blinking the water from her eyes. "Hi, I'll be out in a few."
"Take your time," Carson couldn’t pull her eyes away, slowly looking her girlfriend up and down. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"
Greta flicked water droplets off her fingers toward Carson, playfully. "Mmm, occasionally." Carson pulled the shower door shut, but stayed in the bathroom. A few moments later Greta the shower went quiet, and Greta poked her head out, startled to see Carson.
"I didn't realize you were still here,"
Carson stood, holding out two towels. She knew Greta liked to fully dry off before stepping out of the warm humid air.
Greta piled her hair on top of her head in the smaller towel, the larger one tucked tightly around her. The hot water had helped a bit with her fatigue. Carson was now back in the kitchen, puttering. Greta saw her favorite black leggings and Carson's flannel laid on the edge of the bed. She eased into the soft fabric, layering the t-shirt she slept in underneath the flannel.
Carson looked up as Greta entered the kitchen. She looked so tired, her hair damp and tousled, her hands covered up by the sleeves of Carson’s flannel.
"Hey you," Carson pulled Greta in for a hug, rocking up on her toes for a quick kiss.
Greta leaned into the kiss, feeling Carson's hands against her back. The way Carson knew that Greta wanted, needed, to be held close today. Closer than usual.
"Can I make you anything?" Carson kept her voice low, soothing, as she pulled away from their embrace toward the kitchen counter.
Greta shook her head, pressing her lips together. Why were tears stinging in the corners of her eyes? She watched as Carson placed two pieces of bread in the toaster, and poured water from the kettle over a teabag in Greta's favorite mug.
"You don't have to, Carse" Greta settled into a chair at the kitchen island, she felt on edge, raw, and so tired.
"I know, I want to though" Carson walked over with a plate of lightly buttered toast and a cup of tea. Greta wrapped her hands around the mug, and closed her eyes, knowing the toast would go untouched.
"Want to curl up on the couch for a bit? Maybe put on a movie?" Carson was always so gentle, her fingertips brushed against the back of Greta's hand, still tightly wrapped around the mug.
"Yeah, that sounds perfect" Greta let out a shaky breath, "I'm sorry I'm a mess today."
Carson shook her head, "you're exhausted, not a mess. Whatever you need, I've got you."
Tears welled in Greta's eyes again. Out of frustration, she pressed her palms against them, still hot from the ceramic mug. This happened sometimes, nights of restlessness and dreams fraught with anxiety that felt endless as they blurred together, Carson was always there to catch her. Always there to offer solutions, gently, though they often didn’t work.
Carson was already on the couch, a pillow in her lap, clicking through movie options on the TV. Greta took a sip from her mug before standing. Of course Carson has made her chamomile, and sweetened it with honey.
Carson watched as Greta crossed in front of the television, before setting her mug on the coffee table and sinking into the couch. She laid down, her head in Carson's lap. Carson pulled the blanket from the back of the couch over her girlfriend, and began gently combing her fingers through Greta's hair.
Greta sighed, Carson's fingertips against her scalp were just the right amount of pressure. Greta closed her eyes, trying to allow her body to relax.
Carson felt Greta slowly relax into her touch. Her fingers in Greta's hair, the way she rubbed her thumb in circles against Greta's shoulder. Carson felt her girlfriend's breathing even out, her mind quiet enough, and safe enough, to rest.