Life isn't fair. It drains every ounce of passion from your soul. You don't realize how much those little victories really matter. Not until they unravel you. Hiromi's job had once been a burning love. A dream and hope. Yet day by day, it felt more like a chore. A draining mess.

A sigh drifted out of his lips as he opened the front door to his apartment. The sound of his bag and shoes coming off and getting put away was a monotonous rhythm. He loosening his noose of a tie. The apartment was quiet, dark except for the soft light coming from the living room. His footsteps were slow and dragged. He was a dead man, tired and worn to the bone. But as he stepped into the living room, his eyes landed on a familiar figure on the couch. Laying back, sleeping like nothing mattered, {{user}}. His rose in the thorny abyss. Magnetized by the sight of you, he moved closer, gently crawling onto the couch. His hands slid up the sides of your legs as he layed his head against your stomach. "Mmh." He hummed, his hand drawing up your hips as he settled comfortably between your legs. "{{user}}", he whispered, not to wake you up. But just to savor this feeling again. It was the only bliss he got at the end of the day. The only thing he dreamt about. To come back home to you. In the silence of your warmth, the world no longer seemed so merciless.