the last few days have been stressful for him, some idiotic vandals keep finding a way to break into his company building at night to destroy and vandalize everything, he is a hateful man of course and he knows it very well, his lack of sensitivity and empathy really causes revolt but this has really irritated him to the point of considering the idea of killing the vandals and making cake with their meat, however he quickly discarded the idea knowing that it would be a strong trigger for the police to investigate him as he would be the only one capable of doing something like this for your company Thanks to his frustration he locked himself in the office every night to think about what to do, leaving you and your love needs aside. He didn't even realize he did it, being so distracted by his own problems he didn't even realize that it's been weeks since he slept with you and didn't give you an ounce of attention that a husband should give. This is another one of those days, he arrived home after more stress at work thanks to those damn persistent vandals. He didn't even look at the door of your room, his angry steps were quickly towards the office he opened and slammed the door hard enough to wake up neighbors if his mansion wasn't in a private place without many houses but well , it's loud enough to wake you up, and luckily as he sat in the chair in front of his desk in the office huffing and puffing in anger he didn't realize he left the door open this time

Suddenly, a quiet knock on the door makes him snap out of his thoughts. He sighs and turns in his chair to face the entrance, brow furrowed. When he sees it's you standing there, looking concerned and a little hurt, his heart twists painfully in his chest. "What is it?" He growls, trying to hide how upset he actually feels deep down.

Surprised by your touch, his gaze flickers over your features before settling back on your face. "I'm fine," he says shortly, feeling guilty about lying but unwilling to admit defeat. His shoulders tense as he waits for your reply, unsure what to expect from you now.

Without thinking about it, he leans back into your touch, closing his eyes briefly as you begin to massage his shoulders. The tension in his muscles slowly begins to ease, and a quiet sigh escapes him. "Fine," he grumbles, trying to sound more convincing. "I'm just... stressed with work, that's all." "Sorry if I've been neglecting you lately," he continues, still not looking at you directly. "I didn't mean to make things so bad between us."

He exhales slowly, finding some comfort in your touch despite his best efforts to resist it. "I don't know..." he admits quietly. "It's just been a lot lately...with the company and everything." A pause. "But I shouldn't take it out on you, should I?"

His gaze drifts back down to meet yours, searching for some sort of answer or reassurance in your eyes. He knows he should be strong, that he can handle this...but the truth is, he's never been very good at asking for help.

Taking a deep breath, Ryomen looks away again, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "The vandals keep coming back...every night they destroy more of our work, damage things beyond repair...it's like they're laughing at me, mocking my efforts to build something decent with my life," he says bitterly, clenching his fists on the desk in front of him.

"And every time I go home, all I want to do is crawl into bed and forget about it all...but then I see you there, waiting for me, and I feel like a failure because I can't even give you the attention you need." He glances over at you now, eyes narrowed and conflicted. "I hate feeling like this...like I'm not enough for you..."

"The security is getting nowhere, the police don't help much either since nothing gets reported. It feels like we're fighting against an unbeatable enemy here. And to make matters worse, those idiots seem to be targeting me personally as well...it's only a matter of time before they find a way to hurt you too, I just..." His voice trails off, despair etched clearly across his features.

He feels your warmth envelop him and a pang of guilt hits him in the chest. You have always been there for him, even when he pushed you away, and yet he never truly appreciated it. His strong arms wrap around you instinctively, holding you close. "You can do more than you realize," he whispers into your hair, inhaling your scent deeply. "Just being with me...that means everything."

He turns slightly in your embrace, looking up at you with a mix of gratitude and frustration. "I know you want to help, but there's not much you can do..." he says quietly, the words coming out more harshly than he intended. Then, realizing what he's said, he quickly adds, "That's not fair. Of course you can help. I shouldn't take my stress out on you."

Pausing, he takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself. "It's just...this whole situation is so out of control. It's like I'm losing grip on everything important in my life, and I don't know how to stop it. I hate feeling this way," he admits, voice barely above a whisper. "I need something...anything...to make them stop."

His expression softens slightly as you embrace him, your warmth offering a small comfort in the midst of his turmoil. He sighs heavily, finally dropping his guard and allowing himself to lean into you. "I'm sorry for taking all this out on you. I know you didn't deserve any of it." His hands slide up and down your back, fingers tangling gently in your hair as if seeking some sort of reassurance that you're really there with him.

"I want to protect you...and make sure nothing bad ever happens to you. I'd give anything to keep you safe," he whispers, nuzzling his face into your neck. Despite his words, though, he can feel the helplessness inside him growing stronger by the moment, like a black wave threatening to engulf everything he holds dear. It's a terrifying sensation, and one that fills

He closes his eyes, drawing strength from your touch and your presence. "It's just...sometimes I feel so alone in all this, you know? Like no matter what I do, things are going to end badly anyway. And then there are nights like tonight, where I come home exhausted from work and just want to crawl into bed with you and forget about everything..." His voice trails off as he nestles further into your embrace.

A small laugh escapes him, but it sounds more bitter than amused. "And yet here we are, talking about my problems instead." He sighs heavily, feeling both grateful and guilty at the same time. "I should be out there finding some way to stop them, shouldn't I?"

---

Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to look up at you. Your soft features are inches away from his own, and he finds solace in the understanding he sees reflected in your eyes. With a quiet exhale, he whispers, "You're right, of course. Thank you, for being patient with me...for always being there when I need someone the most."

His hands slide around your back, pulling you closer still, until their chests are pressed against each other. The feel of your skin against his sends shivers down his spine, reminding him of just how much he needs you - how much he wants you. And as he gazes into your beautiful eyes once more, he knows that tonight, at least for now, everything is going to be alright.

He smiles back at you, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. It may not be much, but knowing that you're there, that you understand and you support him means everything to him. He leans in closer, brushing his lips against yours softly. It's a gentle kiss, full of gratitude and reassurance. As it lingers, his body seems to relax under your touch, and some of the tension begins to fade away.

"I love you," he whispers, when he pulls back, his voice thick with emotion. "More than anything else in this world." His fingers dance across your cheek, tracing patterns that seem to convey just how deeply he feels about you. "Thank you for being here...for always being there for me."