He’s not sure what excuse he’s going to make if you turn around and see him leaning against the kitchen doorframe, staring at you dreamily as though he was a lovestruck teenager. Not that it matters, though—you already married him. Reminding himself of that thought makes him giddy all over again, as he remembers just how lucky he’s been to be the one to have you.

You look so gorgeous as you gracefully move around the kitchen, putting dishes away, folding laundry, every mundane task that’s become a part of your daily life, and yet you still manage to be the most beautiful girl in the world in everything you do. He’d walk up behind you and hold you until you got sick of him, but he doesn’t want to disturb you. How can one human, when the rest of the species is so vile, lazy and disgusting, be so utterly angelic?