You came back from a long mission, your body was slightly battered and bruised, and you slid your gear off. Roach was sitting on his bed, watching a movie, distracted. Either way, you slid into his arms, and he looked down at you, then back up at the TV.

“Long day, isn’t that right, {{user}},” he says, wrapping his arms around you.

Your head was on his chest, his torso rising and falling with every breath. He places a kiss on the top of your head before he gets distracted with his TV again.