So Jazzola pointed out these are more like short stories. So yeah, think of these as a collection of short stories, although I'll still call them Drabbles :D

Drabble 2: Break Me


Tick, tock, tick, tock...

Fred stared at the clock as the seconds ticked by. Slow, agonising seconds. Where was she?

He had the TV on mute as he perched on the edge of the couch, his mind wrecked with worry. No text, no phone call; nothing. Just Fred and the now terrifying images that were circling throughout his mind. She had never been this late before.

Daphne had been out for a dinner with a few of her friends. She was due back at ten o'clock. It was now eleven.

He was worried sick.

It wasn't as if she couldn't handle herself. She had a black belt in karate for God's sake. But she would've tried to contact him sooner than this.

Suddenly, he heard the familiar revving of her car from outside as it pulled into the driveway. Fred sighed deeply, somewhat relieved that she was okay. But it didn't mean he wasn't angry with her.

He remained still for the next minute as she was gathering her things, before the key turned in the door and she entered the house.

"Hey sweetie," she greeted him, turning to shut the door and hang her coat on the nearby hooks. Fred remained silent, pretending to watch the TV show as she waited for his response. Daphne frowned slightly at his apparent deafness, her brows knitted in confusion, "...Freddie?"

"What time do you call this?" he snapped, unable to control the tone of his voice as he spoke. He actually couldn't recall a time he'd been as angry with her as he was now.

Daphne stood in a stunned silence for a moment, before gathering her composure.

"Excuse me?"

"You're an hour late, Daphne." Daphne glanced up at the clock, her eyes widening when she noticed the time. She really had lost track of the time whilst she'd been out. Although she was surprised with his apparent anger, she understood it.

"I lost track of time, Fred. You know what the girls are like," she explained, trying her best to keep her voice calm.

"Actually I don't," there was a pause as he stood up, taking a few steps towards her. His face was stern, perhaps the most serious she'd ever seen it, "And you lost track of time? Do you think that makes it okay?"

His voice was almost patronising as he spoke, and Daphne found herself becoming more and more irritable by the second.

"I never said it was okay, Fred."

"No text, no call... how did you think I'd react, Daphne?" he replied, his eyes locking with hers, the cerulean blue so intense as he stared.

She began to speak but stopped, analysing the look on his face. She knew him better than anyone when it came to expressions.

"Are you... are you accusing me of cheating?" she asked, the last word being said with distaste as she spoke. Daphne watched as his eyes widened, and she immediately knew she'd made the wrong assumption.

"N-no! Are you crazy, Daphne?" he exclaimed loudly as he gestured with his arms to emphasise his point. Daphne grumbled to herself, brushing past him as she made a break for their bedroom. She didn't want to argue with him anymore.

Fred turned, watching her walk away, "Daphne, I'm not finished!" he called, and she spun back round to face him.

"Well I am, Fred. Just let me go," she said sternly, and he shook his head.

"I was worried sick about you, Daphne! You don't even want to know what was going through my head as the minutes went by!" he nearly shouted, and she threw her handbag onto the dining table roughly, sending the contents sprawling across the surface.

"FRED, I'VE SAID I'M SORRY! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?!" she screamed, eyes wide with fury. Fred was slightly taken aback. They had never really fought like this before.

"Maybe one day I'll go out for hours on end; leave you here by yourself to wonder what the hell has happened to me," the words tumbled out of his mouth as his emotions got the better of him.

They stared at each other from across the room before Daphne exhaled quietly, unable to ignore the guilt she felt. She should've phoned him. But they had gone too far into this for her to back down now.

"I'm a mature adult, Fred. I can take care of myself. And I certainly don't need to be answering to you about every little thing that goes on in my life."

"So that's it then? You just don't care? I'm sorry for busting in on your whole 'independence' party, I guess I'll leave you to it next time," he sneered, his voice full of sarcasm as he spoke. And that was something she didn't like.

"You know what, Fred? Fuck you."

"Yeah, well fuck you too."

With that, she turned on her heels and dashed down the hall and out of sight, slamming the door to their bedroom moments later, leaving Fred standing in the room by himself again.

He stood for a few moments, feeling almost numb as he replayed what had just happened in his mind. Maybe he had been a bit overbearing?

They had never sworn at each other like that before. Sure, they'd done it as a joke a few times, but never in the heat of an argument. And the funny thing was that neither of them truly meant it.

Walking over to the dining table, he began to slowly place everything that had fallen out of Daphne's bag back inside, being careful as he did so. The silence of it all was killing him. He had never felt so bad about anything before.

Suddenly, as faint as it was, he heard her begin to cry. That was the one sound that stirred up something so powerful inside of him. He had to go to her.

Treading down the hallway, he grasped the handle of the door and slowly pushed it open. Daphne was sat on the end of the bed, holding her head in her hands.

"Daphne..." he breathed, and she looked up at him briefly, her face stained with her tears. They stared at each other for a moment before he stepped towards her, leaning down and wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her off of the bed and into his embrace. She buried her head into his shoulder, sobbing quietly as he stroked her hair, "...I'm sorry, Daph."

She sniffed, glancing up at him as he held her in his arms.

"I'm sorry too, Freddie. And I didn't mean it when I swore at you..." she whispered, and he smiled reassuringly as he leant down and kissed her forehead.

"I know, baby. Me neither."

They had never fought like this before. And they hoped they never would again.