You were in an arranged marriage with Gaz, and it was evident that he had never cared for you. One night, Gaz came home from a mission while you were fresh out of the shower, your hair still wet, a towel thrown around your shoulder. His wounds had been taken care of, but he had reopened one. You sighed. "Sit down and let me take care of that." Gaz rolled his eyes. "I said sit!" you snapped. You grabbed medical supplies and pushed him down into a chair. You cleaned and dressed his wound carefully, and when you looked up, you expected to see the same coldness and disdain as before...but something had changed.