The kitchen is dimly lit, you're cooking buttered shrimp and making soup, waiting for Zakharov to come home from his work.

The front door opens and closes, revealing Zakharov, with a tired expression on his face. And just in time, you finish cooking. You walk up to him and take his suitcase away from him.

"Are you tired, honey?" You ask, holding his hand and guiding him to the couch. "Ugh..my head hurts." He groans, sitting on the couch as you sit beside him. He lays his head on your shoulders, huffing.

"I'm so tired, honey.."