Alan had come home from the studio around 10:27pm. He’s been producing Depeche Mode’s new album for the past few weeks, so he tended to get home around this time.

The pitter-patter of rain hit the windows of the old house, keeping you only half awake. Alan quietly came into the room, smiling softly when he saw you in bed.

Alan took a seat on the edge of the bed, starting to take his shoes off.

“You’re still up, dear?” he asked quietly. He was always so considerate with you.