His mustache tickled your face when he gave you a kiss to the crown of your head, resting his head on your shoulder as he danced around the dimly lit room with you. His body in rhythm with the old music playing in the backround, prosthetic leg thudding quietly on the rug.

Alex smiled to himself. This was all he needed, wanted, after a month long mission. It felt good to rest his bones and be in your arms, comfort for all he's lost. You were his home, his light in the dark.