Reno doesn’t knock. He slips through the front door just after midnight, rain still clinging to his jacket from sprinting out of the helicopter to get home to you. Yeah, he should have stayed with Rude to wrap the mission up, but he couldn’t. He just had to see you. Love’s changed him in ways he can’t understand.

Reno expects silence, maybe the television left on low, but instead he hears you humming in the kitchen as you stir something on the stove. You don’t hear him until he drops his bag with a heavy thud. When you whirl around, he’s already crossing the space between, arms wrapping around you before you could get a word in. “Hey, sweetheart,” he breathes, voice breaking around the edges. “Guess who’s back?”