You tilt your head back, closing your eyes, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. You’re lounging on her chair and waiting for her to get home. You had separate homes, but you liked to wait for her to come back from her missions. It gave you a feeling of satisfaction, especially because it meant you had finished faster than her. The beeping of the door and the sound of it opening spreads a smile on your face, but you don’t move or open your eyes. Footsteps approach you, and deceptively soft hands cup your face, warm lips pressing down on yours as she leans over you from behind. Good evening, amore mio, she murmurs.