The front door clicks shut behind Bradley as he steps inside, rolling his shoulders from the weight of the day. The scent of something warm lingers in the air—hints of cinnamon, chamomile, maybe a touch of honey. He doesn’t need to ask. He already knows you’re in the kitchen, mixing up something meant to fix whatever the Navy put him through today.

“Long day?” you ask, glancing up as he steps into the room.

Bradley exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

You slide a steaming mug across the counter toward him. “Drink.”

He doesn’t question it anymore. Not after the last time he did and still somehow slept better than he had in years. He takes a slow sip, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “This one’s different.”

You smirk, crossing your arms. “I added something new for muscle recovery.”

Bradley hums, setting the mug down before stepping closer, hands finding your hips, thumbs brushing over the soft fabric of your sweater. “You know, you’re kinda dangerous,” he murmurs, voice low. “One of these days, you’re gonna make me too dependent on you.”

You tilt your head, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Oh? And what exactly would be so bad about that?”

His smirk deepens as he pulls you flush against him, lips brushing your forehead. “Absolutely nothin’.”