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As you tiptoed around the flat you and Tyler shared you found yourself getting more and more angry. 6 months you and Tyler had been living together and every Monday was the same. You’d spend all day tiptoeing around while Tyler spent most of the day either in bed or the bathroom suffering from yet another hangover. You knew you shouldn’t really be mad at him for going out after his shows at the weekend, but he always seemed to overdo the drinking after a Sunday show and would suffer for it all day on a Monday, which was one of the very few days you actually got together each week.

As you finished loading up the washing machine with the clothes from Tyler’s gym bag you heard his shuffled footsteps making their way out of the bedroom. You didn’t bother to turn around, you knew he was probably heading towards the bathroom… again. You sighed slamming the door of the washing machine shut.

“Babe?” said Tyler from right behind you.

You jumped and screamed. You hadn’t expected him to even be in the kitchen, let alone that close behind you. You spun around to face him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he apologised, even though the smirk on his face betrayed his sincerity.

“Mhm,” you sighed, turning back around to turn the washing machine on. “Didn’t expect to see you out of bed today.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You rarely are on a Monday,” you muttered. “You’ve always got a hangover…”

“Not always…”

“Yes always, Tyler,” you snapped, turning back to face him. “We only get 3 days together every week, if we’re lucky, but 1 of them you are always hungover! It’s not fair on me Tyler! I get that you need to unwind with the guys after shows and stuff, but for fuck’s sake, can’t you at least pace yourself or just not drink as much?”

Tyler stood stunned. His already sore head was now reeling at your revelation. He hadn’t realised exactly how much things had been getting to you. He instantly felt awful for the way he’d been acting.

“I… I’m so sorry {Y/N}. I didn’t realise how much of a prick I’ve been…”

“Forget it. We both know you won’t change.”

“I will. I swear. No more drinking with the lads. I promise.”

You sighed.

“I don’t want you to give up spending time relaxing with Pete and Trent. I just don’t want to have to spend every Monday morning sat on the side of the bath keeping hold of you cause you’re so drunk you’re puking everywhere, cause believe me next time you’re hungover, I’m not going to hold your head out of the toilet. I’m gonna let you drown,” you said.

Tyler went wide eyed.

“You… you’d let me drown?”

“Maybe,” you said with a slight smirk. “Depends on how much sleep I’ve actually got before you come stumbling through the door and trip over the coffee table that you always forget is there.”

“It keeps moving!”

“It’s been in the exact same spot since before I even moved in,” you chuckled.

“Has not,” he muttered. “That table is evil.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“It’s not evil. You’re just too drunk to see the damn thing.”

“…. Maybe.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his pouting face. You knew he probably wasn’t going to change, but you also knew you’d never let anything happen to him… even if he woke you up at 2am, blind drunk.