It had been almost two hours after Jerome had attempted to strangle Mitch. In this time, Jerome had the entire laundry room clean, in doing so he found his gloves, and cleaned up the dried blood by the door, and any other trails. He moved his boots to their special area, a small trapdoor that blended in with the wooden floor perfectly. Jerome opened it and placed his boots into their spot. He sighed graciously, however still frightful that he had to go up and see his boyfriend. Sure he could have slept on the couch and he was beginning to think that, maybe sleeping there would be a better option than sleeping with Mitch.

He shook his head viciously to get that thought out of his head. He trudged up the steps to the second floor, each step become more attentive than the last. His paw clasped around the knob when he reached the door. Taking in a deep breath, he opened the door slightly. The paw not on the knob turns into a fist and gently pounded on the door.

"Mitchy… sugar. Can I come in?" When no response came out of the room, he opened the door just enough to see inside. Mitch was laying on their bed, face half buried into a soft, white pillow. The light was off so Jerome could only assume that he was asleep. Which makes since considering it was already around 10. He ambled through the open door, walking over to his boyfriend after closing the door. A paw gently lifted Mitch face out of the pillow before Jerome almost fell on his back. Mitch had been crying. The area around his eyes were red and there were visible tear streak running down his cheeks. The pillow was damp as well, the wet spot darker than the rest of the fabric.

Jerome was debating whether or not to wake Mitch up, part of him wanting to comfort the Canadian, while the other part wanted to just lay down and wait 'til morning. What in the hell am I thinking?! This was his boyfriend, his one and only love. His job was to keep him safe, to comfort him yet he was trying to run away. No... He would not ever cower away when his, HIS Mitchell was hurt, even if he caused it.

The bacca shook Mitch's shoulder weakly, leaning down to coo in his ear. "Baby, wake up... I wanna talk to you." Mitch let out a soft groan, twisting around a bit. He winced when his neck was turned at an awkward angle, causing Jerome to turn him back around so his neck wasn't in too much pain. When Mitch's eyes fluttered open, a sudden wave of anger crashed over the Canadian, causing the taller man to pound almost weakly onto Jerome's chest with his fists.

"You...You BASTARD!" The words and punches didn't hurt Jerome, however, they did give him some sort of insight as to what Mitch was feeling. Mitch stopped his flurry of punches with a gasp as soon as Jerome grasped his wrist, however his crying didn't stop, and it only seemed to get louder and more prominent in the dark, silent room. A short sigh let out of Jerome's lips as he wandered around the bed, alternating which hand he was holding Mitch with. He then sat down on his side of their bed, reaching down to grip onto the other hand, still balled into a fist.

Jerome turned Mitch around gently, as to not disturb his awfully sensitive neck, then brought a paw up to Mitch's face, now clasping only one fist. His paw trailed lightly down Mitch's face, a leathery paw pad wiping at his eyes, clearing the welled-up tears from them carefully. The crying had dulled down to simply a few whimpers and a couple sniffles, which had in turn calmed the bacca down a hefty amount. Jerome then again pulled his lips to Mitch's ear, soothingly cooing apologies to the Canadian's.

"I'm so sorry Baby..." The beginning stages of a smile tugged at Mitch's lips when his boyfriend wrapped a fluffy arm around him, snuggling into the fluff.

"I know you are... stupid." Mitch lifted his hand up to Jerome's face, gently caressing it, only halting when the he started to purr softly and almost inaudibly.

Somewhere within the soft cuddles, kisses were lost in an array of fluffy down on Jerome's neck, soft and easily soothing the bacca's nerves. Mitch held his boyfriend paw in his hand, the grip weak, yet still easily conveying his feeling. Even more chaste kisses were placed on the Canadian's forehead, paw tenderly petting the frizzy coffee locks, as the pair drifted into a dreamful slumber, well at least for Jerome that is…