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#touchy clingy in private loser husband wriothesley
nariism · 11 months
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wriothesley isn't one for grand displays of affection, whether it be through his actions or his words.
to the public eye, the two of you are nothing more than co-workers who take their lunch break at the same time. two people who have something to discuss at 3:00 pm every day (which is coincidentally the time for his tea break, as many have pointed out).
you're the first one at his door with piles of paperwork when the morning shift starts. you're the last one out of his office at the end of the day.
to the rest of the fortress, your relationship is superficial—a rumour passed on from old inmates to new ones that the warden and his assistant are secretly married.
it's always laughed off the same way: why would they ever have a reason to keep that a secret?
it's become a sort of inside joke between the two of you since the silly rumour started floating around.
"i overheard some people in the cafeteria talking about us again."
"did you say anything to them?"
you smile, placing down two boxes of welfare meals on the desk. "why would i? it's more fun to let them believe what they want."
"it doesn't bother you?" wriothesley watches you from the corner of his eye as you open them, grimacing at your meal and your bad luck.
"not really," you say, looking at him curiously. "does it bother you?"
he snorts, uncrossing his arms so he can gather you into his arms for the first time since you dropped off papers in the morning.
"nah," he hums, burying his face into the crook of your neck—the place where he seeks solace first when holding you.
"you're crushing me," you laugh, allowing him to press you into the desk with his arms squeezing you terribly tight. you wheeze dramatically and he pulls away with a grumble.
"come on, let me have this. i haven't seen you since your shift started."
"that was only a few hours ago..."
he pouts. "so you didn't miss me?"
"i didn't say that." you pinch his nose and he engulfs you again under his weight, scooping you closer to him with his arms around your waist this time.
"imagine if one of your guards saw us like this. what would happen to this grand mystery surrounding our relationship?" you sigh, hopping up onto the desk while he slots himself comfortably between your legs.
wriothesley can only chuckle. "then you would owe me three hundred coupons."
"seriously? you still remember that bet?" it was made ages ago, after all. a wager that no one would find out the truth before the end of the year.
"aw, don't be such a poor sport. three hundred coupons is nothing. need i remind you that you're married to the warden?"
"no," you breathe, holding him by the cheeks so you can press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "i don't know where you heard that false rumour, by the way. did an inmate tell you?"
your teasing makes him roll his eyes. he tackles you into a hug again. "oh hush already."
turns out that some rumours really are true.
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