"I be, my love." Luke rested his head on his left hand, which had his elbow on the edge of the bathtub. You know that Luke's job is dangerous, and you know very well that this isn't the first nor the last time he comes home like this, hurt.

Cleaning Luke's wounds was never a problem, he also never complained or showed that something hurt, he just let you know if something was hurting a lot. Luke was very tough, but he liked it when you took care of him like that.

Luke's right hand went down to the bath water, his eyes opened, remaining half-open, he looked at you with a mere smile before bringing his wet hand to your chin, lifting it. His touch was gentle and loving.

"I should have used my gun, but I didn't want to get blood on my hands again, my sweet." Although Luke's words sounded sarcastic or even joking, his expression was serious, but he gave a smile and said, "I wouldn't die anyway."