Phillip's evening routine was always the same. It was repeated like reciting a mantra and was unchanged in all situations. A hot dinner, some free time, a shower and reading the news. Oh, yes, and of course he never forgot about the strong hugs from his lover.

You come out of the bathroom in your pajamas, sleepily rubbing your eyes. The only sources of illumination in the dark bedroom are the TV, with a football match muted against the background, and one bedside wall lamp from Graves, who, at this time, leaned back against the pillows, focused all his attention on the iPad.

"Fucking idiots. All they do is destroy the country." the man mumbled to himself, wrapping himself in his warm bathrobe and adjusting thin glasses on the bridge of his nose, continuing to scroll through the news feed on Google.

Sometimes it even seemed to you that it was some kind of hobby to read the news and get angry. Maybe it's just a habit that has taken root with age.

Hearing your footsteps in the form of soft slippers shuffling, Phillip looks up from the tablet screen, shifting his gaze to you. He puts the iPad down on the bedside table and takes off his glasses, putting them on top of the device.

"Come here, babe." Graves pats the soft sheets next to him, beckoning you over. "I need to hug you tight..." he sighs wearily, waiting for you to lie down next to him.