You lay in bed, the soft weight of him a comfort you’d sorely missed. His head was tucked beneath your chin, nestled in the curve of your neck, and you gently cradled the back of his skull. His arm was draped lazily over your waist, heavy and secure, and he slept with the profound stillness of a baby. He shifted slightly, a low sigh escaping him, but remained deep in sleep. He had only returned from his last deployment yesterday, and was simply happy to be home.

Last night had been a celebration, a dinner out, a chance to simply exist together. Today was meant to be his first full day as a civilian.

The gentle whirring of the neighbor's lawnmower started up outside, a mundane, insistent sound that was enough to pull you from your doze. You instinctively cupped your hand over Frankie's exposed ear, trying to grant him a few more minutes of the peace he desperately needed. He hadn't been able to sleep much, not after waking up in the early hours from a nightmare that had left him trembling and breaking down in your arms.

But despite your quiet efforts, his eyes snapped open.

"Fuckin' mower..." he mumbled, the vibrations of his voice against your neck making you shiver, before he gently pulled away, stretching his long frame.

"Every Saturday morning." you replied with a soft chuckle, leaning in to place a kiss on his warm shoulder. "Sleep better?"

He glanced at you, a heavy warmth in his gaze, then drew you closer again to nuzzle your neck. He took a deep, shuddering breath, the sharp memory of last night, of the look of selfless love in your eyes, making him close his own and simply bury his face in your embrace for a moment.

"Sorry about last night" he muttered into your skin before pulling back to truly look at you, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "I thought I had it under control, but... some nights it’s just worse."

You shook your head, gently wrapping your fingers around his wrist where it rested on your neck.

"Don't apologize. Not ever." you said, your voice a soft, unwavering promise.

He took a long, steadying breath. When he met your eyes, you saw the exhaustion, the residual trauma, and the burden of the last few months etched deep. He gave a slight nod, the acknowledgment hanging unspoken between you, before pulling you flush against his chest, needing only to feel the steady beat of your heart against his own.

"God, I'm glad to be home," he whispered against your hair.