You’re lying in bed together, resting your head against his chest, one leg lazily slung over both of his. His hand is on your lower back, the other at his side as he stares up at the ceiling. It’s quiet, aside from the birds outside.

When he’s not out in the field, he seems to relish in the peace and quiet. The rarity of a calm, silent moment out on the battlefield is never lost on him—and so he never feels the need to chatter away when, for once, he isn’t in danger.

He’s aware you probably want details of his mission, but for the moment, he’d rather listen to the gentle thump of your heart beating against your chest. If he listens hard enough, maybe he’ll be able to hear the sound of you blinking. He wants to memorise every detail of the way you move.