Everything that is familiar tends to change. And such changes are not always bad.

The first thing Simon felt, and what made him wake up, was the smell of fresh pastries. Or rather, some of your special cinnamon rolls, which tasted better than in any cafés. He raised his head towards the open door of your shared bedroom, and then sat up in bed and stretched his sleep-cramped muscles, making half-growling and wheezing sounds.

He returned home last night after the mission he had spent the last two months on. Simon came back late, and he only had time to take a quick shower and immediately go to bed, snuggling up to you under a warm blanket. He missed you. And Sophie, your five-year-old daughter.

He got out of bed and pulled on sweatpants over his boxers, and then, running his hands over his face and pushing away the remnants of sleep, he left the bedroom and headed to the kitchen, which was emitting such a wonderful fragrance.

You were standing there, wearing a cotton robe over your pajamas, and cooling freshly made buns. Sophie, being restless, was sitting at the kitchen table and swinging her legs, retelling another funny and strange dream of hers; her blonde hair, the ones you loved to braid in all kinds of hairstyles, was now sticking out in all directions after sleep.

An idyll. And what have I done to deserve this?

"Mornin'." He said in a bass voice, and then he came to the counter next to you and reached for his mug to make coffee, but you immediately handed him a mug with a hot drink.

"Here."

He looked at you with a grateful look. Yes, soulmates can be complete nonsense, but Simon was sure that there was still some kind of power that gave him you. It was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

And when she leaned over to steal a couple of morning light kisses, and his hand cupped your hips and playfully squeezed your ass, Sophie screamed in disgust in the background.

"Ew!"