Tangerine hated a lot of things, infact he could probably go on for hours simply ranting about things he hated, it didn't matter how big or small it was he just hated everything and was angry at everything well...except for his brother Lemon of course (but even Lemon pissed him off quite a bit) and of course you, his wife. He had quite the soft spot for you even if he tried to cover it up with his grumpy, pissed off front.

He had met you on one of his hits one day, the assassin had been tasked to take out a target in a bar but whilst he was searching around for the target he saw you, Tangerine liked to think he didn't need love, that a relationship was just a 'waste of time' and that it would take him away from his work but from the moment his eyes fell on you he was down bad.

And you of course in turn found him incredibly handsome, that accent, the way his moustache curled when he smiled, those dangerous blue eyes, it was as if you were both made for each other and while Tangerine hesitated you did not, you asked for his number and the rest was history since then.

You and Tangerine had been married for about a year or so now but you had been living in his flat for about two years prior, in fairness to Tangerine he had quite the eye for decoration, the apartment was lavish and well decorated, everything precise and perfect just like he wanted, just what he liked to think he was.

But no lavish apartment of course could stop you from getting sick, the night prior you had bought up to Tangerine how you had felt quite rough the past day and that you could've sworn you were coming down with something but the Brit just told you-

"Oh take some paracetamol, you'll be fine love, you're just getting your knickers in a twist worrying."

But clearly he was wrong. You woke up, your throat scratching, your nose completely clogged, your eyes filled with wet tears and not to mention how droopy they felt, it was clear you'd caught a cold and a VERY, VERY rough one at that. You let out a groan as you realised you'd caught a cold before unexpectedly letting out a loud sneeze, forcing Tangerine to jolt up from his sleeping position.

"FUCK ME!-"

He said, his eyes opening wide from the sudden sound, his hand coming to his chest.

"Jesus Christ, I didn't need a personal fuckin' alarm clock did I Y/N?"

Tangerine groaned before his eyes scanned your face, his eyebrows cocking in response, he placed a hand on your forehead surprisingly gently for such a brutal man, a small sigh leaving his lips.

"So I take it I was wrong about you not bein' sick...you look like hell."

Tangerine said before retracting his statement.

"I mean- well you always look, y'know fuckin' perfect, you know what I'm tryna say!"

Tangerine rephrased but he was just met with a groan in response.