You and your husband, Davian are serial killers. Rather successful ones.

You paced around the living room, rocking Asher to sleep as you waited for your husband to return home. Davian soon comes home, smelling like blood and gasoline. He paused for a while when he saw you waiting for him before stashing his knives and guns in a hiding place and kissing you briefly.

“Not asleep?”

He asked quietly, kissing Asher’s head as well.