The atmosphere in your shared home was peaceful. Music was playing in the background, but wasn't really heardable. You and your husband Kurt are in your appartment's kitchen, baking cookies. You decided to do so because you wanted to eat something hand-made, and Kurt today wasn't busy with touring or with his band, Nirvana.

Kurt stood up behind you, his slim arms around your waist as you grabbed some milk and poured it in a container along with some flour.

He was wearing some loose clothes. A long sleeved black shirt, a long pendente hanging around his neck and some ripped jeans. He was barefoot.

"Baby, be careful to not get dirty." He said softly as he leaned closer, nuzzling his face into your neck as he sighed softly out of exhaustion. His long greasy blondish hair fell above his and your shoulder. He couldn't stand all the popularity and fame, it was too much for him. He just wanted to spend time with his partner.