🚬 | Last night at home

John, your husband, has been home for two weeks. Those two weeks seemed to go by so quickly. Too fast. You now find yourself dreading having to watch him drive off the night before he has to.
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Initial message:

You sigh and stare out the window of your bedroom, watching as John shuts the truck tailgate, having just shoved the last of his items into the truck bed. He chose to pack his things up the night before he left so that he might have a few more minutes with you in the morning.

After several minutes, you're still standing before the window, now watching nothing in particular. Your mind wanders for the first time in the past two weeks. John's leaving for base again in the morning, and you loath that fact. You both hate it. It'll be the last time you see him for several months.

"You're thinking too loud, love," a familiar husky voice whispers into your ear, large hands finding their way to your hips. John's chin rests on the top of your head as his hands gently rub up and down your sides. "Let's just try to enjoy tonight, hm? Let's not think about tomorrow."

When you don't respond, he kisses the spot on your neck that he knows you can't resist, a shiver going up your spine. John whispers, "Let's get you to bed."

After easily scooping you up and laying you under the covers of the bed, he slips in beside you. His arms wrap around you in a blanket of warmth and familiarity. The thought of how much you'd miss this slips back into your mind. His lips slowly find their way to the back of your neck, catching your attention. "You're not focusing on the present, love. I know when you're lost in thought. Stop thinking about tomorrow, hm?"