You dragged yourself to the doorstep of your cozy home. You sniffed deeply and sighed, it sucks to have a cold.

It's been a long day, a terrible day, actually. Probably the absolute worst day in your life.

You were about to insert the key in the keyhole, but the door suddenly swung open.

Your view panned up to see your 6'7 tall husband, Mayanka. He has lovely dark skin, free of any imperfections. His eyebrows are thick, complimenting his well sculpted face. His sleek, sophisticated eyes stared down at you.

"Hey—" He pulled you inside and gave you a big, warm hug. It felt so nice after a day out in the cold. Mayanka is a man of a lot of love but very few words, he's a mystery to you and also... probably to himself.

You both first met when a mutual friend introduced you to him, this was because you told your friend that you were looking for love. You thought Mayanka didn't like you because he was so quiet, you soon came to know that he didn't really talk because he:

1. Does not know English very well.

2. More of a listener than a speaker.

3. Is interested in your ramblings.

4. Not used to talking to people in general.

5. Does not smile that often.

The both of you dated for two years before he proposed to you through email. It was bizarre, but heartwarming considering the fact that he tried his best to type in perfect English. However, you could tell that he ran some phrases through an online translator.

The email was painfully long, you knew that it's a love poem of some sort, but it was so damn difficult to read.

You love him, you love that he's putting an effort to improve his English for you. However, that entire wall of text has so many grammatical mistakes and awkward phrasing that it seems unreadable.

You never had the heart to tell Mayanka that you skipped the entire thing and went straight to the bottom where it has the phrase "Please Marry Me I Love You" In the largest font the document could possibly provide.

In comic sans.

In a rainbow coloured fill.

Below the phrase was a picture of you and him, standing awkwardly next to each other. None of you were smiling, only staring at the camera like deer caught in headlights. There were doodle hearts drawn around your head.

You remember this photo, it was taken one week into the relationship with Mayanka. You two had sex multiple times, it felt amazing but the aftermath was... AWKWARD. Mayanka does NOT talk, you do all of the speaking while he does all the... cuddling.

Your friend took that photo of the both of you. You told them that you were planning to cut all contact with Mayanka because it doesn't seem like he's really interested. It was your friend who convinced you to give it some more time.

And there you were, seeing that cringy photo, in an email, from Mayanka, as a marriage proposal.

You decided to keep that same energy up and emailed him your acceptance. Which only consisted of "ok👍".

You were busy anyways, you received that during your lunch break at work.

When you came back home (to his house, you moved in after three months of knowing him), Mayanka, for once in these two years of knowing him, let out a joyous laugh and twirled you around. You remembered that he was grinning ear to ear, undescribably happy that you're willing to be his wife.

It initially scared you, it was so much different than the usual Mayanka. So much life, so much vigor.

That night, he made you your favourite, (fav food), gave you a backrub and began blabbering away in broken English about how much he loves you. You're glad that he found this confidence to speak to you instead of leaving you to rot in your own awkwardness.

For that two years of dating, all you remembered doing with Mayanka were cuddling, kissing, eating and copulating. You couldn't find any memories that includes the both of you talking, it's mostly you telling him about your day and him happily listening to it.

You didn't exactly knew what he works as back them. Not even the mutual friend knew, yet he has a steady stream of income and an enourmous bank account.

Whenever you asked him, he would always reply with:

"Selling."

Selling what?

"Crafts."

What crafts?

"Clothes crafts. Basket."

Hm, he does have a fairly popular website selling crotcheted goods and rattan crafts. But you didn't believe that it's enough to sustain his life.

What did you work as before doing this small business?

"Cooking man."

You mean a Chef? Where?

"At home."

Home, where?

"House."

Who's house?

"Rich man house."

From what you can infer, Mayanka was a personal chef for a wealthy man. Nothing too suspicious, it make sense for him to accumulate that amount of money.

It also made sense that his cooking skills are godly.

You? You worked as an accountant. Slaving away at the computer, watching number figures go up and down. Sitting in your office chair like a shrimp, staring at the blindingly bright screen all day.

Coming back to Mayanka and his cooking is heavenly.

Just like now, the aroma of his famous beef stew fills the whole house.

"Ten minutes." Mayanka spoke up, voice soft and quiet.

The stew is still simmering away, allowing the beef essence to seep out of the meat and into the gravy.

"Okay." You nodded, he lead you to the couch. He sat down and lay you on his lap like a blanket.

Mayanka started kneading your back, gently undoing any knots and releasing any tension.

"You stress. A lot." Mayanka mumbled, pressing his knuckles against your fatigued muscles.

"Yeah, working as an accountant is no easy task." You replied, words muffled by the cushion on your face.

"No. Today very worst. Why?" He asked, giving a more tender backrub.

"..." should you tell him? How will he receive the news that you're made redundant from the company? Will he see you as this burden and disappointment? Mayanka literally does everything in this house, you're not even the breadwinner.

"Little wife?" You melted in his touch, that is a sweet endearment Mayanka called you after you agreed to his marriage proposal. The both of you are yet to have a wedding reception and you don't think you can afford it anymore...

"I got laid off." You muttered. Mayanka stopped massaging you.

"You sex other people?" There was a dark undertone in his voice.

"No! That's gettin' laid. I was laid off, they made me stop working because they don't need me anymore." Mayanka resumed his massaging.

"No need say difficult words. Just say fired." You could feel the relief in his tone.

"I was not fired, that's different from being laid off! I didn't do anything wrong, they just didn't have enough money to pay me. So they... fired me... okay, you have a point." You groaned in defeat.

"Ok." That was his only reply.

You raised an eyebrow and turned around.

"You're not... mad at me?" You asked.

"Why I mad?" He replied with a genuine question.

"I'm practically useless now..."

"No."

You waited for him to continue. But he never did, Mayanka only tended to your aching back like he always do every day.

"I mean, you do the chores, you cook, you earn money, this is your house too!— I can't even hold a job down, I'm not— I'm not of any use to this relationship." You flipped yourself up to face Mayanka. You then scooted until your head is laying on his muscular lap.

"You make me happy." He caressed your face with his long fingers. Mayanka's pecuiliar, but beautiful electric yellow eyes softened at you. His lips neither pulled up into a smile or a pulled down frown.

You're starting to feel that he's doing this so he doesn't ruin your mood and ultimately your motivation to find another job.

Beep beep beep.

His kitchen timer sounded.

"Time to eat." He tapped your thigh. You got up, earning a kiss on the forehead in the process.

—

"...I say already, No need to find work. I have enough money." Mayanka expressed his annoyance at your persistence, you're trying to access what's his feelings on this are. He scooped another spoonful of rice and put it in his mouth.

"Yeah, but I'm gonna be a burden to you!" You, starting to get exasperated that Mayanka is not seeing this the way you see it, raised your voice.

"No, no burden. Work burden. Can at least wait for a while then go back working? I want to love you longer." He chewed, his voice still as tender as the beef. You don't believe that he's truly alright with you being a freeloader, you think that he's trying to be non-confrontational and nice.

"C'mon, I wanna be a good—"

"I actually don't like you work. No time with me, always work. No love, all work." He hissed, leaning slightly forward in anger. Hurt swirling in his seemingly angry eyes.

"But I can't just sit on the couch all day do nothing!" you argued back.

"Then don't do nothing!"

"Yeah! That's why, I gotta get myself a job, that way, I get to work and earn money for the both of us! C'mon, be a little supportive here, will ya?" You crossed your arms in irritation.

"I want more time with you!"

"Yeah, that'll only happen when I save up enough for my retirement funds."

"I have enough money for you and me!"

"No, you don't. Plus, you'll probably get sick of seeing my face 24/7 anyways and I'll probably get sick of seeing yours too." You snorted, thinking that's just a lighthearted joke.

To Mayanka, it's not.

Mayanka suddenly shot up from his seat. He then took his plate of food and stormed away.

"Hey! Where are you going!?" Mayanka ignored you and went upstairs. You heard his thudding as he stomped up.

"What? Sick of my face now?" You yelled.

No response.

You sighed and returned to your dinner.

Suddenly, you felt something fuzzy and heavy nudge against your legs.

"Wha— hey! (Wattpad username) my boy! How's a going, you literal dog?" You bent down to pet your pet pug. He panted and licked your hand.

"Good boy, good boy!— hey, check up on Mayanka for me, would ya?" You pointed at the stairs. He seem to understand what you wanted him to do, (wattpad username) the pug dog wobbled up.

"Man, he do be havin' major mood swings." You shook your head, thinking about Mayanka's action earlier. "Menopause, maybe? Nah, he's too young for that."

You continued enjoying your delicious meal, oblivious to the fact that your husband is sobbing in the bedroom with (wattpad username) in his arms, trying to console him by licking his tears away.

—

"H-hey buddy..." you knocked on the bedroom door. You gently pushed it open to see Mayanka watching his 7pm soap opera, pretending that you don't exist.

"The hell..." His eyes are red and puffy, an unhappy frown is etched on his handsome features. Mayanka is absentmindedly petting (wattpad username) with his left hand. The pug is peacefully sleeping on his lap.

You grimaced. He doesn't seem to be in a good mood. So you're gonna do what you do best to people at their worst: leave them alone.

You grabbed the door knob, slowly and quietly closed the door. You were about to move to thw study room until your ears perked up at a muffled scoff followed by an...

"...Asshole."

You snapped your head back and pushed the door open.

"Do you even know what that means?" You asked him.

"Yes. Means person not nice. You are asshole." He replied, voice wavering. He wiped a stray tear away with a piece of tissue paper.

"What the hell did I do?" You widened your eyes, he rarely gets upset with you.

Well... actually he does. But usually Mayanka would either hide his discomfort or cry in private. This enabled you to become progressively worse to him and you didn't even realize it.

"You make dog see me. Not you? That is not nice." He was holding back his tears, there was a pinch in his normally smooth voice.

"Well excuse me, how the hell should I know you wanted me to check on you? You literally just took off. I assumed you wanted some space." Mayanka muttered something under his own breath, it surely isn't English because he was so fluent in it.

A heavy silence hung over the both of you. Mayanka's soap opera playing in the background is slightly irritating you.

"Whatever. I'll be in the study room if you need me."

You were about to leave the bedroom until you heard sobbing, whimpering and simpering.

You crossed your fingers, hoping that it was from the dog and not Mayanka.

You wanted to groan when you saw your husband crying in his hands.

"...yeah, maybe I should give him some space to sort out his feelings." You continued leaving him alone anyways.

Once you closed the door behind him, the sobs became louder and he started angrily shouting in his own language.

"Huh, guess everyone has different ways to cope. I wonder what got him all riled up?" You shrugged and left for the study room.

—

You were so occupied with searching for job listings that you didn't notice Mayanka coming in, trying to reconcile with you with a bowl of cut fruit despite still thinking that you didn't care about him enough as a wife.

As soon as his tired eyes landed on the computer screen, all his good intentions went out of the window. Mayanka stormed back into the bedroom, grabbed a pillow and a spare blanket.

He quickly descended the stairs and dumped them (except the bowl of fruit) on the couch. Mayanka then went into the kitchen to keep the bowl of cut fruit in the fridge, seeing that you're too busy trying to find ways to get away from him.

Your dejected husband went back into the bedroom and locked the door.

That was three hours ago.

Three hours later, you're yawning. Preparing to enter the bedroom and expecting fall asleep next to a calmed Mayanka.

Only to be greeted with a locked door.

"Uhh, Mayanka?" You knocked.

"Go sleep on sofa. I am angry at you." Mayanka's muffled voice was accompanied with sniffles.

"Man, I don't even know what I did wrong. Was it the checking up thing?"

"Have fruit in fridge. You too busy to see I stand there with fruit for you." He grumbled.

"Now you're angry cause I didn't notice you QUIETLY standing there like a dumbass?" You rolled your eyes.

"I knock!" He argued back.

"Then knock louder next time, damn!"

"Go away! Today, you are not nice to me!" You clicked your tongue at his tantrum, dismissing the anguish in his tone as mere overreaction.

"Fine, whatever. Get wrinkles or something." You mumbled, rubbing your eyes as you went downstairs.

You were surprised that he already prepared pillows and blankets for you.

"He said something about fruit... I'm going to get myself some fruit." You went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"Aw man, it's all browned now..." you frowned at the apples. But otherwise, everything else looks perfectly fine.

You took the bowl out and began munching on the apples. You sat on the couch and turned the TV on with the remote. You switched channels until something caught your eyes.

"Ooh, this movie looks cool. It has Lanette in it." You made yourself comfortable as you immerse yourself in the action movie.

—

You woke up to the sounds of pigeons cooing. You ought to do something about that infestation.

The sofa is warmer than usual, it also had an odd structure to it. But you're not complaining, it's comfortable.

You opened your eyes to see that you're laying down on top of Mayanka. Your head rests right under his chin, while his arms are wrapped around your smaller form.

He's still asleep, you could see dry tears on his face. You have to admit, you felt lucky to have an extremely attractive man like Mayanka.

Didn't he say that he was mad at you? Why did Mayanka come down and do this?

"Hey, hey." You shook him. He groaned and held you tighter against him.

"Let go, I gotta get to work!"

"You no need work. You laid away." He groggily muttered.

Right. Yesterday's events came flooding back.

"It's laid off. Not laid away." Mayanka grunted in annoyance.

"You got fired." He spat.

"No!— y'know what, get off me. I'm going job hunting." His eyes shot open, he sat up and anchored you in place.

"You don't like with me!? Why always job, huh!?" He snapped.

"The hell are you talking about!? Of course I like being with you, I just need to find a job—"

"Just finish one day company fired you, why not rest!? Like one week to love with me!? I already tell you I have enough money to support!" He wept, his large hands cupping your face, forcing you to see his despaired expression.

"It's too early in the morning for this shit— What the hell has gotten into you?!" You shoved him off you and stood a few feet away.

"I angry yesterday because you don't care me! You tell me you don't like to see me!" He accusingly pointed at you.

"What? I never said that." You placed your hands on your hip.

"Yes! You say! Before I go up and you make dog see me!"

"That? That was just a joke!"

"Not funny! I feel sad when hear!" He yelled back.

"You didn't find it funny because you're not fluent in English. You got it all wrong—" He stood up abruptly.

"Don't look down me because I English not good! I still human and need respect! I know what you mean, you don't tell me what I feel is funny, that joke not nice!" He sniffled and wiped under his eyes.

"Hey now, you're getting a little overboard here—"

"I human, you human also! How cannot understand we see different!? I have feeling also, I feel you don't care me, you don't want me with you! You don't respect me!"

"You think I don't give a shit about you just because of that one joke? C'mon, pull yourself together... and it's just a joke, get over it." You crossed your arms.

"You don't even want say sorry! You don't care my feel! You use work excuse to go away from me!" His voice became strained from all the screaming.

"At this rate, yeah. I rather go to work than handle this damn crazy bitch." You decided not to say your thoughts out loud.

"I'm not apologizing for your overreaction, Mayanka."

"You apologize for your own reaction! Not mine!" He fidgeted around.

"Fine. I'm sorry, okay? Happy?"

No, it only made more tears rush out of his eyes. The way you said it sounded like you're mocking him.

"Y-you don't even know what you sorry about! Don't talk to me until you really know your wrong things!" He then ran back upstairs.

"Ugh. What is with his HORMONES?" You clicked your tongue and head to (wattpad username)'s food bowl, planning to refill it with top grade dog Kibble.

______________________________________________

A/n: aaaand that's a wrap, for the house husband AU — tell me what ya think! Do ya think this can be expanded into another book?