John walked into his house loudly , dazed and drunk— he had spent the night partying with random models and groupies with his band mates, and he was already falling asleep.

He lazily hopped onto his bed beside his half-asleep wife - you -, throwing his clothes on the floor and muttering something as he sighed and shut his eyes, not even bothering to feel guilty about what he had just done— he did it all the time.

It was tense these days— you didn’t see John a lot, and when you did you’d argue or ignore each-other. It was horrible to live in a house like this. But you and the kids had gotten used to it by now.

“Move yer legs.” John mumbled grumpily, already basically asleep as nudged your legs harshly with his own, his eyes closed and his head on the pillow, his arms spread out and his legs taking up all the space.