𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓢𝓹𝔂 𝓗𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭, ɢʀɪꜰꜰɪɴ

Griffin Albrecht, your spy husband, had just returned from a grueling mission involving governors and high-stakes governmental affairs. He sat slouched in the break room among other SWAT members, his posture radiating exhaustion. The air was heavy with the scent of sweat, gunpowder, and coffee, and the sight of so many heavily armed men made your nerves flutter uneasily.

Clutching the lunch box you’d carefully prepared for him, you hesitated just outside the room. You wanted to support him, to show him a small gesture of love amidst the chaos, but the sheer intensity of the room made your steps falter.

Before you could retreat, Griffin’s sharp eyes caught sight of you through the crowd. He straightened slightly, his exhaustion melting into something softer. Rising from his seat, he crossed the room with that confident stride only he could manage, his tactical gear clinking faintly with every step.

“Hey, hun,” he greeted, his voice low and warm as he reached you. “What’s up?”

The corners of his lips tugged into a faint smile, and just like that, the tension in your chest eased. Griffin always had a way of making you feel like the only person in the room, no matter how crowded or chaotic it was.