You're being a big brat tonight. You're tired and run down and sore. Your shoulders are hunched and droopy when you walk in the door, your eyes a greyer blue than normal. Preparing for this goddamn tour is taking its toll on you. I've been doing my best- suggesting quiet things we can do together, massaging your sore calves and feet, giving you slow, melty kisses so you know how I feel even though we haven't had sex in a while.

Maybe that's why you're so grumpy. I can't figure you out. I've tried to start stuff a couple of times, but you've been so, so tired, baby. I don't want to push it.

I miss you. You're still here, but you're a zombie. Even though you smile at me and your eyes still light up, and you still make me giggle, and you curl into me like I'm the only thing connecting you to the earth. But, you're tired and pouty and bratty. And I'm grumpy and snappy because I've been working longer, too. And our moods are rubbing off on each other. I wish we were rubbing something else off on each other.

But, I love you. Maybe even more than before. Seeing this side of you and still wanting to be with you, be near you, makes my heart sing. You're driving me crazy, but there's no one else I want to drive me crazy. Your brand of crazy is my favorite.

So, here we are for what seems like the millionth time this week trying not to let our bad moods affect our relationship. You're here early, which is good, but more tired than usual, which isn't. You had a particularly hard, technical, rehearsal today and you were drenched with sweat when you arrived on my doorstep. Sometimes you shower at the studio, but you were so tired you forgot your bag this morning. I smile and let you in, pulling you in for a sweaty hug, which you melt into. Your sweat is sweet sweat, and I love the way it smells on you. I kiss your neck and send you off to my shower with a swat on the ass. You giggle and trudge away, and I watch your long legs sashay around the corner.

I'm sitting on the couch writing when you round the corner again, your body encased in my towel, your blond hair dark and dripping down your shoulders. I let my eyes graze over you and smile, you look like you're headed to my bedroom to pilfer some sweats. I love the way my clothes look on you. But you surprise me and continue walking over to the couch, approaching me with a familiar glint in your eyes, straddling me in all your toweled glory.

You bend down and claim my lips, and all I can do is gasp. Your hair falls around us, dripping down my shirt, sending more chills down my spine. Your hands grasp my face, pulling me into you as you grind down on my hips. We both moan. I wrap my hands around your back and start to run them up and down before grabbing your ass and pulling you into me. I could feel your towel loosening and you don't make any moves to catch it. This was it, maybe we'd finally get naked.

Just then my phone started to ring. I groaned and paused my lips, which were trying to steal away to collect the water off your neck. You pull away a little and tell me to ignore it. I do, your neck more worthy of my attention. Just as I start making my way to your collarbone, your phone starts to ring from the table. It's your mother's ring tone. We both know it, we both hear it. You try to ignore it, pulling my head into you, wanting me to keep working, but as soon as your phone stopped it started again. With a growl of frustration you hop off me and slide the call open.

Panting, I sit on the couch watching you try to fix the towel, give up, and saunter to my bedroom naked, sending me an apologetic look over your shoulder. It shouldn't have been teasing, but it was. After a few deep breaths, I run my hands through my hair and pull myself off the couch, picking up the towel and placing it in the bathroom. I grab a stack of take out menus out of the kitchen and plop back down on the sofa trying to decide what to eat, resigned to the fact that your mother just cooled off our sweet lady kisses.

I can't be too mad, though. You've been so busy you haven't really had time for anyone but me. I feel special and spoiled that I get the little amount of attention you have to give. I get to fall asleep with you and wake up with you and kiss you before you head off to dance. We spend most nights together at my place. The ones we don't spend together kill me, but I'll have to get used to it. You'll be gone for a month and I'll go back to sleeping alone, hugging my pillow.

You're still on the phone when you come out of my bedroom. Your hair is a crazy mess and you're wearing my favorite t-shirt and an old, ripped, pair of sweats. You shoot me a smile that makes me feel like I could jump over the moon, and lie down on the couch with your long legs stretched over my lap. With your free hand you grab mine and link our fingers together, squeezing them as you give me another soft smile.

Baby, you're so cute when you do things like that.

I can tell you're bored with your mother's conversation, but you won't end the call. Not yet. You haven't talked to her in a while and she misses you and your little sister. Your dad joined a bowling league, must be a family trait, so he's busy some nights during the week.

You let go of my hand and instead start tracing patters on my palm and up my wrist. It tickles, but in the good way that I like. My stomach rumbles and I look at the stack of menus in my hand, choosing one I'd like and holding it up for you to look at. You shake your head and scrunch your nose in disapproval. I move on to another one and you vehemently shake your head back and forth a couple of times. I pick up one that you usually love, and am met with a 'No, babe' and a grimace. I let out an annoyed sigh and roll my eyes. You move the phone for a second and say, "I'm so hungry, I'm not hungry. You should just pick one, honey."

I snap, "I've been trying to do that for half an hour!" You pout, wiggle your toes and draw a heart on my palm as you listen to your mom.

I sigh again and take a deep breath, closing my eyes and resting my head on the back of the couch. You're infuriating sometimes. I can feel my hunger hulk lurking in the background and I don't want to get snappier with you than I already have been, so I pull out your favorite menu, head to the kitchen with my phone to order your favorite appetizer and a few entrees we can split. I hear you start to finish up with your mom as I open a bottle of wine. You slide up behind me and kiss my neck, wrapping your arms around my waist. I love when you do that. You mumble some incoherent apologies into my skin, but I don't need them. I just need you. I turn around in your arms and meet your lips with a kiss. It's heated and passionate and everything we've been missing for the past couple of weeks. I feel you lift me onto the counter and smile into you. Your hands are quick as they peel off my shirt, taking my bra with it. You mouth roams my chest, driving me mad. I grip your waist with my legs and pull you further into me, as far as you can go, and start moving against you. Your tongue is dancing in my mouth and I let you lead, I will follow wherever you want to go. Your wet hair stings my skin as it moves with your frenzied air.

You quickly remove my pants and before I know it you're inside of me, thrusting into me with your hips, working me up with skill no one else has ever had before. I tug on your hair to pull your face out of my neck and look deep into your eyes as I feel that warm wave wash over me, quicker than I would like. I'm not embarrassed though, you've been able to get me and see me and understand me like none other.

I slide down off the counter, sliding down your body until I'm kneeling at your feet and your sweatpants are around your ankles. You're not wearing anything underneath and I almost come again right there. I kiss my way up your legs, pushing you back until you're leaning on the island in the middle of the kitchen, moaning and writhing above me. You climax harder than I have ever seen before, except for maybe our first time.

You slide down to meet me on the floor, your legs giving out beneath you, and give me a sloppy smile. You kiss me clean, and hum into my mouth.

We sit there breathing each other in for a few moments before you start giggling. I giggle, too and ask you what's so silly. You breathlessly say, "This wasn't how I pictured breaking our dry spell."

I laugh, "I didn't picture it either, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

I kiss your ear and whisper, "I don't think I've ever seen you come that hard before." You blush, and I kiss your red cheeks, "It was hot… so, so hot." Before you have time to react, I slide my fingers inside of you, and you gasp into my mouth as I work you up quickly. I just want to watch you fall over the edge again, you're so, so beautiful when you break, baby. Your body shudders with release and I kiss my way around your face. You curl into me like a sleepy kitten while you catch your breath and I laugh some more when I tell you it's only been two weeks.

It feels a lot longer when you're used to getting some most nights a week.

We're still piled together on the floor when the doorbell buzzes. You're more clothed than I am, so you pull your pants up and hop to the door to get dinner. I stand up and throw my shirt and pants back on, tossing my underwear and bra in the bedroom. I hear you grabbing the wine and some glasses in the kitchen and I unpack our food. Your favorite show is on in a few minutes and I can't wait to cuddle up on the couch with you, especially in this haze of love.

I hate that I've felt whiny and grumpy while you've had rehearsal. I don't want to be that girl. I'm not that girl. I won't be that girl. You're working so hard, babe, so hard. I love that about you, you are unfailing in your drive to be the best. And you drive me to be the best, too. I've written so many songs, so many melodies since you came around.

We sit as close as possible on the couch, underneath a blanket, passing cartons back and forth between us as we watch your show. For someone who said she wasn't hungry, you don't stop eating until almost everything is gone. When you finally lean back and smile a shy smile at me, I just laugh and kiss you.

We settle into a quite serenity on the couch. Your legs are over mine, but my head is on your chest. You scrape your blunt nails through my hair, and it feels so good I'd be purring if I could. I love sinking into you like this. Feeling you breathe beneath me, feeling your heartbeat, feeling you vibrate when you talk.

You make me melt, baby.

I pull you to the bedroom when your show is over, peeling back the sheets and letting you slide in. You're half asleep and so, so adorable. I clean up the living room and brush my teeth before joining you. You curl into me as soon as I'm under the covers, your head resting in my neck, your arm over my chest, your legs intertwined in mine. I hear you sigh in contentment and kiss the top of your head.

I feel you mumble something into my skin, and softly ask you to repeat it. You lean up and kiss my cheek where my dimple would be, explaining "I forgot to tell you that I have the morning off tomorrow."

I giggle and squeeze you closer to me. How do you forget the best things? My heart fills with my love for you.

You continue, "All I want to do is sleep in with you, I'm looking forward to not rushing."

You settle back into my neck and I feel your breath ghost across my skin. I squeeze you to me and make a silent promise to make you breakfast in bed.

You love breakfast in bed.

And you love me.