A/N: Something I wrote for the 2015 romione secret santa on tumblr for ladyknightley! I just love auror Ron and Romione who talk about their ~feelings~ and thus this drabble was born. Enjoy!

Ron closed the door to his and Hermione's small apartment as quietly as possible. Removing his shoes as to make less noise, he quietly tiptoed around the sofa to their bedroom.

Hopefully Hermione would be fast asleep by now. If the dark state of the house was any indication, he'd guess so. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest for not telling her he'd be back a little later than anticipated, but it dissipated with the knowledge that she had at least managed to get some sleep without him.

He pushed their door open, immediately wincing at the squeaky hinges and cursing under his breath. As stealthily as he could manage, Ron squeezed through the gap he had created and came face to face with a thoroughly unimpressed looking Hermione.

With a yell, he jumped backwards into the doorframe, having been startled by her unexpected presence.

He tried smiling weakly. "I Didn't- Didn't see you there, love."

Hermione raised a single eyebrow and he faltered. "Please don't be mad, Hermione, I just-"

"I'm not mad." she interrupted calmly.

Ron paused. "Err… Right. Okay well then, I'm-"

"I'm not mad, Ron." she interrupted again, this time with a steely iciness in her voice. If asked, Ron would say that her tone completely deterred her statement.

Hermione took a step closer to him, shortening the distance between them. Ron tried to stand his full height, but it was hard not to cower under her gaze. "I'm furious."

Ron gulped. There it was. Usually he would fight back, find an argument for the sake of arguing, but this was different. For one thing it was three o'clock in the morning, and for another he knew he owed her an apology.

"Hermione, I'm-"

"I don't want to hear that you're sorry." She stated matter of factly.

Ron was stunted. "Well then how the bloody fuck am I supposed to apologise?"

Instead of giving him an answer, Hermione turned her back to him and walked back to sit on the edge of their bed. "Do you know what I've been doing all afternoon?" she inquired quietly.

Ron paused. The truthful answer was probably 'yes', but he didn't want to think about it. So he shook his head.

"I've been pacing back and forth for hours because I had no idea where you were, what you were doing, or when you were coming back. You promised you'd come home by dinner, and you didn't. I spent the whole day worrying and crying and fussing because no one could tell me where you were, and I was scared you had died, Ron. I thought you were dead, or missing, or hurt, because you didn't come home when you said you would, and you didn't leave a note, and you didn't tell anyone, and for all I know you could have been dead." Ron winced at the words, recognising them to be true.

Hermione wasn't finished. "And then- and then when I've been working myself into a frenzy for eight hours, I get a call from your head of department telling me that you left to go down to the pub with Harry as soon as you got off shift." She paused and crossed her arms more firmly over her chest, as if hugging herself. "It's been thirteen hours, Ron."

To say Ron felt guilty would have been an understatement. He felt ashamed. He'd let Hermione down, and he'd made her worry about his wellbeing all afternoon whilst he was off, perfectly fine (or, almost so at least), drinking with Harry.

Gathering up all his courage, Ron sighed and began speaking. "I know it has, and I'm sorry. The case we had- it wasn't exactly a nice one- and I didn't want to come home in a state and worry you even more. I was fine!" he added at her panicked expression, "I didn't get.. Y'know, hurt, or anything, it was just a hard one to deal with." He took a deep breath. "I'm fine, really."

Hermione stared blankly ahead, and Ron figured it would be safe to go and sit next to her.

"I know I should have left a note." he told her softly, placing a hand on her pajama clad knee. "I can't imagine what I put you through tonight, but I can promise that it will never happen again, okay?"

Hermione didn't respond except to lean in to his shoulder and Ron took it as a sign to put his arm around her.

They sat in silence for a while, but Ron knew it was coming, he could feel it. And sure enough- "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ron sighed, "You know I can't, love. It's-"

"'It's Classified', yeah. I know. It always is."

Although they were physically leant into each other, Ron's hand entangling and detangling itself through her hair, he still felt as if there was a barrier between them.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. You know I would if I could, love."

Hermione sniffed and moved her head off of his shoulder so she could look into his eyes. "I know," she said gently, "I do. I just get so frustrated when these things obviously upset you, yet you can't speak about them. It's not fair."

Ron nodded his head and pressed a soft kiss down against her temple. "No, it's not. But that's my job."

Hermione muttered in reluctant agreement. "Just promise me you'll leave a note in the future? I'll worry a lot less if I know you're safe and just had a tough day than I would if I don't hear anything."

Guilt hammered itself into Ron's chest at her words, but he nodded all the same. He owed her that, at least.

"Sorry I missed dinner," he spoke gently into her hair after a while of silence, "I'll do tomorrow's if you'd like."

He felt her lips at the base of his neck, mumbling their agreement. Ron laughed gently, realising how tired she must be. With a yawn, he realised how tired he was too, and decided that getting some sleep was probably the best thing for both of them. But first-

"Hermione?" he asked quietly into the silence.

"Mmmm?" her sleepy voice replied.

"I love you."

"Love you too."