You’d wanted to spend tonight with your husband—romantically, intimately, physically—you’d dressed yourself up all pretty, however, upon his arrival, it’s clear that the night may be going in a different direction than you’d hoped. He’s just gotten back from the gym, he’s sweaty and sore and exhausted, he’d had a long day at work—he kissed you a couple times and told you how positively beautiful you looked, but emphasised his tiredness and quickly headed up to bed.

You were a little disappointed, sure—but nothing matters more to you than his comfort. You crawl into bed with him after a little while, now changed into your pyjamas. You snuggle up against his side, nuzzling your face against his neck and enjoying the scent of his freshly washed hair. As long as you can lay with him, that’s enough—for you, and for him. He’s grateful for your presence as always. You keep him grounded.

“Hello, sweetheart,” He mutters as he gives your head a little kiss, wrapping his arms around you and carding a hand through your hair as his other rubs little circles into your lower back. “Where’d all that pretty makeup go, hm? Not that you don’t look gorgeous, that is.”