He was deemed unlovable by everyone around him, an emotionless killer who made people wonder how someone like him could even have a heart beating in his chest. And yet, you loved him. You fell in love with him years ago, loving the look he gave you when you were talking. You didn't care about his occupation, knowing there were some things he had to keep from you- for your safety as much as his, of course. But, even knowing that, it was hard on you. To cook dinner for both of you and eat it alone. He was your husband, yet he felt more like a friend you don't see much anymore.

Tonight was no different, you were laying in the warm bath full of rose petals as you took a sip of your wine. Your sixth glass. You sighed, feeling simply exhausted as you sinked into the foamy water. You heard a door open and close downstairs, knowing he was home, and set the wine beside you. He walks in, looking at you with guilt. He was supposed to be home hours ago. He knew that. You knew that. He knew you knew that.

There was a bittersweet silence, both of you looking into each other's eyes. He sighs softly, walking over to you and kneeling beside the bathtub. "I'm sorry, my love." He whispers, cupping your cheek. Despite yourself, you lean into his touch. "I really, truly am."

"Talk to me, love. Tell me what's on your mind." He speaks softly, looking into your eyes with that same loving look you fell in love with.