Carmella isn't in a great mood. She was tense as soon as she came home, and she seems even angrier now, the bad vibes even more obvious to him while she's laying in bed next to James. He blinks into the darkness and breathes in and out softly, trying not to disturb her. The interview square off with Sasha hadn't gone all that well, only fueling her frustration, and James even had been thrown in her face, which always adds to her anger. "How dare she," she says suddenly, glaring up into the darkness, and he exhales slowly, glancing over at her.
"Mella?" he asks quietly, fingers tapping the mattress next to where her hand lays.
Carmella twists to lay on her side and glowers at him. "How dare she say any of those things? And to bring you into it? My God. The gall."
Her anger has always intimidated him, but for the most part, he can tell it's just protectiveness towards him. Like now. "Really, it's- it... I'm used to being insulted, you don't-"
She grips his face and forces him to look into her eyes. "No, no one gets to talk about you like that. Our time together, it meant something- to diminish it like just some..." Her words fail her and she shakes her head, biting her lip. "I hate when people do that. You were more than just some... lackey to me."
"Hey." He leans up and searches her face. "I know that, ok? You wouldn't be here, right now, if I wasn't." She's still unhappy so he reaches out and grips her hand. "Come on, let's..."
She sighs. "James, what-"
"Trust me?" A simple question, a weighted request between them after all this time, but she allows herself to be dragged out of bed and he leads her quietly into the kitchen where he quietly begins to fiddle with mugs and milk.
She huffs but settles in to watch him, chin propped up in her hand. He's always efficient in late night kitchen wanderings, probably after years of being on the road, and with two young daughters who sometimes have trouble sleeping. When he glances over and smiles at her, she doesn't react but feels a little of the tension leave her shoulders either way.
"Come on," he says once the microwave has beeped. He claims her hand once more and they walk into the living room where he nudges her towards the couch, putting the mugs down only long enough to turn on the Christmas tree, its lights flashing lazily as James settles in next to her, handing over her mug. With his free hand, he grips the blanket on the back of the couch and tucks it in around her.
She hovers over the mug, letting the warmth bleed up into her face, and tries not to roll her eyes at being coddled like this, especially when James wraps an arm around her and tucks her in close, giving her an excuse to fold her legs in and cuddle against him. They sit quietly and sip from their mugs, Carmella biting her lip as she examines the Christmas tree. He'd set it up a week ago, getting the boring parts out of the way so when she came home from Smackdown, and the girls were awake, they could all four set into decorating it with no delay. She smiles into her mug and looks over at him, watching how the lights flicker against his face, lighting up his eyes in a way that does funny things to her.
She sighs and reaches out, her hand curling around his jaw, and turns him towards her, gently kissing him. "Thank you," she whispers against his lips and he smiles into the kiss, squeezing her arm.
"My pleasure, Mella," he says softly, and she exhales, drinking a little more of her warm milk before settling her head on his shoulder and watching the tree for awhile longer. Feels him take the mug from her gently and set it down on the table to the left of the couch with a soft clink, careful not to dislodge her.
She blinks slowly and watches the lights grow blurry, and then disappear entirely as her eyes slip shut, sleep tugging lazily at her. "I love you, Jimmy," she whispers.
There's a warm pressure against her forehead, and he whispers back, "I love you too, Mella."
She falls asleep like that, warm and relaxed on the couch, held close to him, reminded all over again of just how lucky she really is.