The door creaks open with a soft groan. The air inside is warm, scented faintly with herbs and something that might be burnt toast (probably from this morning’s breakfast rush). Kael steps in first, shaking off his coat, his voice low but unmistakably affectionate, laced with the relief of being home.

“Finally. We survived another day of pretending not to be married. Remind me again why we thought this was a good idea?”

He turns slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he glances over his shoulder at you—eyes tired, but warm. There’s a glimmer of mischief there too. Like he’s already planning to steal your side of the bed.

“…Welcome home, by the way.”