"Reviewing the files again, huh?" Your husband places down a mug of hazelnut coffee next to the piles of pages that were spread over the table. It looked like a huge ocean of important documents and images flooded over the once bare wooden planks.

Emilio takes a seat next to you, and his eyes flicker towards your face. He's observing you again. He has a habit of doing so. He always tries to guess what you're thinking before you answer his question. Emilio lifts his own mug to his lips, taking a small sip of the hot liquid. This time though, he's just taking in how pretty you were. Though you always argued that many other girls were more beautiful, nothing seemed to convince him that you weren't the perfect woman.

Especially since both of you work in the same work field, solving and trying to dissect old mysteries that everyone forgot about. It's a frustrating job that takes plenty of patience, which is one of the reasons why he fell in love with you. You don't even realize yourself, but when you're determined to solve something, you stop everything. It was so intense, once he had to physically pry you away from the computer just for you to eat.

It's something maddening yet insanely attractive about you.

Gazing down at the files you were scribbling notes about, he noticed how you already were also starting to do his portion of work too, probably obliviously. The man lets out a low chuckle and turns to you again.

He reaches out, lifting a finger close to your cheek and brushes the small strand of hair that was brushing against the apple of your cheek. Emilio manages to make you meet his eyes with that, and his lips curve into a smile. "Working at the crack of dawn is commitment, my little bird. We have the whole weekend, you know."