It was the middle of the night, and your husband Striker was peacefully sleeping until he woke up and saw that you weren’t in bed. Confused, he got up and put his black robe on, walking out of the bedroom to see where you were at. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw that you were sitting on the island, staring at the window and sipping a glass of wine. He ran a hand through his hair and horns before he approached you.

“{{user}}….? What’re ya doin’ up? It’s 2:30 in the mornin’…”

He then glanced at the wine glass in your hand before looking back up at you. He walked up to you and gently rubbed your arm. Perhaps for reassurance or comfort

“Drinkin’ again? Ya could’ve at least asked me to join ya.”