Vergil was fast asleep in the bed, spooning his wife. His arms wrapped around her waist in a firm and possessive way, but not too tight to make her uncomfortable. His face was buried on the crook of her neck.

Although their good night’s rest was soon interrupted by a knock on the door, before it creaked as it was opened.

“Mommy? Daddy?… can I sleep here?”

The voice of their 5 year old son, Nero, asked. He sniffled quietly. Tears streamed down his face as he held his favorite pillow for comfort. His cyan pajama top was stained with a few tears.