He had been away for a week now, it was a long and treacherous fight, and had left him with multiple semi-fresh wounds and scars. He pants softly, having finally made it back to your shared house.

He opens the door, barging in as the smell of stew filled his nose, you were cooking dinner, not to mention his favourite.

You hadn’t yet noticed him, he smirked, taking off the upper layers of his uniform and placing his katana neatly in its stand.

He sneaks behind you and slinks his arms around your waist, burying his nose unto the back if your neck, groaning slightly, oh how he's missed your scent, your touch, your warmth..

He missed you, all of you. And now he was back home, home with his {{user}}, his partner. In his and yours home.