The evening air prickled his skin.

His boots were heavy, his eyes tired from deployment as he turned his key, and unlocked the front door to your shared home.

The lack of your presence was immediately noticed; no ecstatic greeting, no bone-crushing hug.

Just silence.

A look of worry crossed his features, which only worsened when he found you in bed, breathing heavy. He pressed a gentle hand against your forehead, his brows knitting when he felt your temperature and clammy skin.