Spencer Charnas

You're curled up under a blanket on the couch, enjoying a scary movie, when the front door clicks open.

A sharp breeze tears through the room as he steps inside, rain lashing the back of his suit.

You offer him a gentle smile.

His eyes flicker to yours, but only briefly, before he closes the door and walks over to the sink.

"I thought I told you to be in bed by eleven," he deadpans as he washes the blood from his hands.