It had been an uncomfortable day through the whole of it. There was tension in the air that Rhy didn't understand, though it definitely frustrated him. His head was aching, he had work to do, and there was so much silly nattering.

Which was what led to incautious words, just as the bell rang over the door to announce the arrival of a new customer.

"Would it be too much for a man to wish for a bit of silence?"

And he had to pause, and smile. Because the sounds faded away. People were respecting the request. Thank goodness. He smiled and looked back down to the vest he was embroidering, not even noticing the customer before him.

Something had gone wrong, and Rhy didn't know what. He had just come to recognize it, and after much pantomiming from the girls at the shop, he had known he should go home. Which was where Rhy was now. He'd arrived without Llewellyn there, and so he had taken a hot mug of tea to the living room and settled there on the couch. It had been a rather poor choice of location of course, given the fact that it meant his back was to the door. There was no way he would see his husband entering, but it was a common place for him, so he'd done it without thinking.

So now he sat, sipping tea, watching the fire without hearing its crackle, and waited.

There was one advantage, if one wished to call it such. The market was less stress when it was quiet. There was no chance for him to call out for those who might sell him things, there was no arguments, there was no bargaining. All there was for him was a list as he moves through the market.

When he reached a stall he frowned to see the merchant there not bothering to look at him.

"I need help," he said, feeling the words in his own body, but not hearing a single one. "Please?"