“Ready, amor?” He cooed, his hands moving to guard his face. He was teaching you a new move, helping you learn how to guard yourself in close combat.

About a year ago, you had stopped sleeping, barely catching a wink a night. You were worried about him, about his work. You forced yourself to stay up, staring up at the ceiling, cleaning, reading a book, watching a movie, anything to keep you up. You hadn’t had a good eight hours in so long..

He knew why, though. And he couldn’t blame you. If the roles were reversed, he’d do more than not sleep. You were scared, worried about him because of his work. You didn’t want anyone breaking in, hurting him. So you stayed up.

He found a way to help comfort you, though. He’d teach you combat skills, just like now.

“Good job, {user}. Doing good.”