Graves’ eyebrow rode up as he saw you, dressing yourself nicely as you stood before the mirror, his reflection getting closer behind you before a pair of hands wrapped around your waist, a possessive touch underneath the gentle facade.

“Where you goin’, darlin’?” He whispered, pulling you close to him, meeting your eyes in the mirror in a way you recognised.

“You know I don’t like it when you go out alone.” The southern man warned, kissing your cheek before letting you go of his firm grip.