It was late at night when John arrived home from a recent deployment. He was well beyond exhausted, his age catching up to him in ways he refused to admit, even to himself.

As he walked through the front door, he immediately took notice of your figure on the couch, his eyes flickering to the bottle in your hand.

“{{user}}, I’m home.” He spoke softly. He was only met with a drunken babble. “What was that, love?” He asked calmly.