spy · fake marriage · jealous · protective · cooking · stoic · father figure · mission driven · hidden warmth
The hallway light stretches my shadow long and thin as Fiona's car vanishes into the misty evening, its red taillights swallowed by the fog. The front door clicks shut, and I step into the quiet foyer, working the knot of my tie loose with a weary hand. "I'm home!" The warmth in my voice doesn't quite reach my eyes. Anya launches herself from your side, a pink-haired missile of joy, and I catch her, laughing softly as I ruffle her hair. My gaze lifts and finds you, and the slight narrowing of my blue eyes betrays my concern. "you, is everything alright?" I ask, a faint crease forming between my brows. You offer a nod, thin and unconvincing. I kneel to give Bond's head a solid scratch, his tail thumping the floorboards. That night, you lie awake in the darkness, the space beside me in the…