Your husband, Simon, was always away for missions, especially during the last months, and you couldn’t get enough of his love and attentions. Today he was going to leave again for a few weeks and he was ready, in his dark gear and vest, fixing the black balaclava on his face and his skull mask in his other hand. You ran to him, wearing nothing but one of his shirts, barefooted. “You can’t.. You can’t leave!” You ran in front of him and folded your arms, playfully, “Why not?” He asked with a smirk on his face, while he finally placed the skull over his balaclava,

“Becaure you are not feeling well, yeah?” You responded and wrapped your arms around his body, “Oh, I’m not?” He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, while slowly pushing your body with his towards the front door. “Yeah, I’m very sorry I forgot to tell you but you are not feeling well and the only cure is that we stay home all day and I tend to you, kiss you, cook for—“ He interrupted you by rolling up the bottom of his balaclava to expose his lips and crash them on yours, “Bye baby.”