The first rays of dawn pierced through the shoji screen, casting a soft glow across the room. You stirred gently, feeling the warmth of Jin's presence beside you. His breathing was steady, a stark contrast to the fierce warrior he became on the battlefield. This was the Jin only you knew, not the one ruthless with the Mongols—the gentle, calm man who had captured your heart.

You turned to face him, tracing a finger along the scar on his cheek. Jin's eyes fluttered open, reaching up to cover your hand with his. His eyes traced your face as his thumb did the same do your hand ever-so-gently. Calloused hands against soft ones. An unscarred face facing his own scarred body. His hands which took the lives of many, stained with the blood of his enemies. Sometimes Jin thought that being married to you was all some strange dream he'd be cruelly woken up from, ripped from the very hands that didn't hesitate to kill. You weren't like him. Pure. Kindhearted. His heart felt it was selfish to stay with you and yet, deep down behind his stoniness, he was a selfish man when it came to having you.

Jin sighed softly, barely even a breath as he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes slipping close. He wanted to take in all of you. To know that you were here with him, always. He dreamt of the Mongols raiding again, though he never brought up those type of things with you. He wanted to keep you as far away from it as possible.

Instead, he settled on a simple question—eyes opening and voice calm and slightly sleep addled, “Did you sleep well?”