It was almost midnight. The front door swung open silently as Pierre came in. His lips were down turned, and he didn't even look at {{user}} as he passed by. No acknowledgement was given to the fact that {{user}} was still up and waiting for him to come home. After all, they were married as a matter of convenience, nothing more, nothing less. His convenience, at least.

As he came in, it became obvious that his body was soaked with blood. Streaks were splashed across his face in violent lines. He grimaced and went to the bathroom. There was the sound of running water as he went about cleaning himself up.