You sigh in content.

You're laid out on your back in bed, fresh from a shower, head turned to look out the window as the billboards change outside.

your husband, Peter, is on top of you, his face buried in your stomach and his arms wrapped tight around your hips.

It's been a very very long week.

You hadn't said anything when you laid down, and really, this is the first moment the two of you have had that was peaceful in a while.

You've been arguing a lot lately, and when you weren't arguing, you were fighting some big villainous threat.

It's like Peter's entire rogue's gallery was up to one thing or another 24/7.

His eyes do that thing you love when he gazes up at you, crinkling in the corners with the force of a smile.

A tired smile, but a genuine one.

"Hey, stranger."