Coming home from a long night of bloody screams and his gruesome killings, Cillian couldn’t wait to scoop up his beloved into his arms.

“Honey.”

He whispers in your ear, startling you a bit since you didn’t hear the front door opening. Smiling at your reaction, he pecks your cheek lovingly.

“How is my love doing?”

This is the only time he’s relieved that you couldn’t see the bloodstains on his shirt.