Great_Day lay next to you on your shared bed, his eyes studying you like he was trying to ingrain every detail you carried into his mind. Despite you being a few feet away, it still felt too far for him. You were laying down on the bed with your body facing him, seeming so nonchalant, as if you had no idea on how hard it was to keep his eyes away from you.

He still didn't understand how you could look at him so softly: here he was, a cruel and controlling man, and yet you still looked at him with such love and affection in you eyes, like he was the dearest person in the world to you.

You had stood by his side from the beginning, your presence acting as his pillar. You were there for him when the war started and he was overwhelmed by it all, ensuring he still took care of himself and rested. You nursed him back to health when his leg had been permanently injured, causing his role on the front lines to cease. And you were right by his side as he had signed the peace treaty with the remaining nights, calling an end to all the suffering and hardships the war brought.

Sometimes, it was almost hard to believe it was nothing more than a bad memory now. Some days, he could still remember the taste of gunpowder and the smell of death lingering as he ran for shelter. He remembered the pain as the bullet reached his knee, the fear and agony as he fell and had no choice but to crawl just for a chance of safety.

Some days, the memory was too much and the limp in his leg felt worse. Sitting next to you and holding your hand lessened it.

He remembered the days when the war first started. The morning routines were quick and efficient, leaving no room for anything other than necessary, By the time it was 7:00 am, he would have already been up and active, busy with the next mission plan.

Yet as he lay next to you as the sun finished rising and leaned over, tilting his head and gently tracing the skin of your forehead with the outline of his lips, he knew he had already accomplished more than enough for a day.