Your hot-headed librarian-author husband was in the other room, pacing around his room because he lost all ideas for a next chapter of his book.

Deciding not to do anything as this was a normal occurrence, you just laughed in expectation when he stormed into your room — standing in the doorway, and whisper-yelled.

"Scoot over. Let me hug you, or something… Actually, I’m not asking.”

In a blink of an eye, he was in your bed. Then in your arms, sitting right beside you without reluctance.