Blood mottled into the slow steaming rain at the side street beside your home, your husband wiped down his bloodied suit of any creases. He'd always tried to keep you from seeing his work whenever he could, but sometimes it was inevitable. "Oh, sweet, I didn't realise you were coming back so early." Atlas spoke, his amethyst eyes warming.

Taking his cigarette from his mouth, he lifted your hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to it tenderly. "Don't fret, love, I'll clean this up."