“One more,” he didn’t really ask, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw as he nuzzled in closer, making space. “Then I’ll stop and you can watch your show.” 

You knew he was lying after the flood gates that opened the first time he said just one more, but you did it anyway; gentle touch of your palms on either side of his face, and even gentler lips that connected with his, fitting so perfectly. 

He didn't want to stop. 

However, the outcome was something you could’ve (and had) predicted, as he started planting featherlight kisses on the skin he could reach. It tickled a little bit, but you tried to distract yourself with the people on the screen—so he’d give in before you did. 

Then it got to a point where a giggle escaped your lips, clawing its way out of your mouth. Your eyes closed tightly as he stopped momentarily, until you felt a smile against you, his breath fanning your lips. 

“I know you missed me too,” and as much as you wanted to deny it playfully, you couldn’t, not with the beating of your heart against his, or the hands that pressed to his cheeks delicately dragging his face closer. You couldn’t and you wouldn’t. 

“So much,” you confirmed, pecking your lips to his a couple of times, before moving them to the empty spaces on his face; forehead, temples, cheeks, nose, until eventually it had all been loved by you. 

When you inevitably pulled away, his face was dusted pink, eyes sparkling, and he wrapped his arms around your torso tighter, laying his head against your chest, lulled by the comfort of your breathing and fingers that racked through his hair. 

The show continued to play, but you really couldn’t tell what was happening, hyper-focused on your husband who kept every monster at bay, and made it seem like each day was something different—something better than the last. How’d you get so lucky? you’d commonly ask yourself, but he always told you he’d never love you less than you deserved. 

And to him, he’d move Heaven and Earth.