The rising sun shined brightly upon your face as you rose from your bed, the delicious scent of food hitting your nose. Glancing at your nightstand, you saw an assortment of food, some burnt and some cold, but it was the thought that mattered, right?

John entered the tent and snuggled you from behind. Placing chaste kisses on the back of your ear as he spoke.

"You like the food I made?," he asked as he sat up straight and awaited your response.