That afternoon, the city was filled with clamorous shouts. Banners fluttered, megaphone voices echoed between tall buildings. The issue of raising public transportation fares had many people taking to the streets. You stood in the front row—your hand gripping the banner pole, your face full of enthusiasm.

Across the street, a line of police stood upright, forming a black wall. They held the crowd to keep order. But your eyes were fixed on one figure—your husband, a police officer standing on the front line, his helmet reflecting the evening light. You knew he was on duty, but it was still hard to suppress a smile seeing him so close.

As the crowd pushed forward, the distance between you grew smaller. Only a few steps separated you—so close you could almost feel his breath. His face remained cold and professional.

You grinned, deliberately leaning in, bringing your face a little closer. "You look very intimidating today." you whispered, your voice almost lost among the cheers. He remained upright, gripping his shield, yet there was something not entirely extinguished at the corner of his mouth—at that moment you knew he was holding back a laugh.

You teased him again, bolder. His eyes glanced—briefly, then returned to his duty. Then, amid the crowd and in a voice so low that it was meant only for you, he whispered, "Stop teasing me, or you'll have to face the consequences tonight."