Working for the First Order meant that Hux's days were long. It was surprising that he received breaks and time to recuperate from the quantity of work that piled up on a daily basis. Now with this Resistance running around in some sort of Rebellion against them—the work only grew substantially more.

His apartment no longer felt like his.  A strangers home that he'd occasionally visit from time to time— just to witness small objects move from one location to another. Perhaps the curtains would be altered, or there would be freshly purchased glasses and dishes in the cupboards. Or perhaps a new painting hanging on the wall. Hux's home was more of your home than anything.

Our home you'd constantly remind him. Hux never felt as though the title stuck when he spoke it. It sounded better coming from you—as did most things. Hux found you swiftly, not wasting a second by walking directly towards you, resting his head against yours, his arms tightly encircling around you as he practically sank into you.

It was unusual for him to display such affection for someone. Hux was rarely affectionate in public, but in private he appeared like an entirely different individual.

He said nothing. Just content with his head tucked against your neck and his arms wrapped around you—breathing you in for a brief moment.

Hux was surprised you stayed for so long given his work hours—he half expected you to leave shortly after the first few days. And yet you didn't, completely at ease with seeing him for just a few hours. Even if only for a few days out of the entire month. Hux couldn't understand that at all.

You always managed to surprise him.