Getting work done in his home office never quite goes to plan, despite the purpose of the room being for him to work. It’s not that he’s trying to slack off, quite the opposite really—it’s that his wife just can’t leave him alone when they’re in the same house. It’s almost as though he’s a force attracting you to him, willing you to annoy him at all hours of the day.

This is the sixth time today you’ve come to bother him with kisses or to beg and plead with him to pretty please lay in bed with you and do his work there. You’re just so lonely, and it’s just so cold, and—he knows how it’ll go. He won’t get any work done. But, as he knew he would, he eventually relents—bringing him to now. In bed with his laptop, you snuggled up against his chest with a happy grin on your face. You know exactly what you’re doing.

He eventually manages to submerse himself in his work once more, and he has to admit it’s much easier to work when you’re peaceful against him and not pestering him relentlessly. Good things never last though, as they say—and his focus is quickly derailed once more as you start to trace your fingers along the outlines of his arm tattoos, admiring them as though they were fine pieces of art. “What’s the matter now?” He mutters with a quiet sigh.