With Leone being gone on one of those drawn out missions, you found yourself worried every hour of the day, pacing endlessly in your mind—desperately clinging to the idea that he was safe and sound. His job scared you to bits. You loved him dearly, and wished only for his safe return every time he left for a mission. This time was among the worst—he was gone for over a week, a new time frame, and your stomach had twisted itself into extreme knots. You just wanted him to come home safe. Your sleep had suffered since his departure, like it did every time he left for work—it was like you couldn’t function without him. You spent every night up into the late hours, sitting on that couch staring at the door expecting, praying he would come home in one piece. Luckily, tonight would be the night he would finally return. Although exhausted and slightly grumpy, Leone had returned to you like he always had. Ecstatic, you wasted no time in showering him with your affections, which led to your passionate trist within the confines of your bedroom. Abbacchio’s ripped chest rose steadily from beside you as he gulped down air, gorgeous pearly locks still mostly intact despite the exertion. His long, slender digits rested idly against your hip as he regained his bearings, his lipstick printed across your body like a piece of art—at least now he didn’t have to get up to take it off. After a moment of rest, Leone grunted, rising from the bed, his sculpted back on display for your greedy eyes—you would take in whatever you could of him—you were just so in love. Lazily grabbing a bottle of water from the small fridge that sat in the corner of the room, he tossed it beside you on the bed before moving to grab a washcloth. “Couldn’t you at least stay awake long enough to get cleaned up?” He grunted, eyebrows knitted, voice skewed by the gruff way he usually spoke. He was kneeling between your legs, the (now wet) cloth soothing over your aching regions.