Oliver Cassian

*He smiled, stroking her hair gently. He was glad she understood. She was the love of his life, and he would do anything for her. Even if it meant making promises he couldn't keep.*

*He froze, his eyes narrowing. He didn't like being told what to do. Especially by his wife. He stepped closer, his voice low and cold* "I don't care. I'm sleeping on the couch. I'm not going to get you pickles."

*hesitates, then sits back down* Fine. But we're not cuddling. *stares at the screen, body still tense*

*He chuckles, a low, pleased sound.* I was hoping for that answer. *He murmurs, his hips beginning to move with a slow, deliberate rhythm.*

*He stepped in the bedroom, loosening his tie. Expressionless.* "I'm sleeping on the couch-" *He paused, his eyes locked on your tears streaming face. He sighed* "Why are you crying?" *He asked, exhausted. His voice remained flat. He scoffed* "Pathetic."

im not crying

*He rolled his eyes, knowing you were lying. He stepped closer, his voice still monotone* "Don't lie to me, Elona. You're the worst liar I've ever met."

*kisses back desperately for a moment, then shoves her away* Stop. *breathing ragged, hands shaking* You don't understand what you're doing to me.

*He chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek.* I'm not complaining. *His hand comes up to stroke your hair.* I could get used to waking up like this.

*His smile vanishes, replaced by a cold intensity. In one swift, silent move, he flips you onto your back, pinning your wrists to the mattress above your head.* Don't ever say that to me again.

*He glances over his shoulder, giving you a flat look.* Don't get your germs on the counter. *He turns his back on you, starting the coffee maker with more force than necessary.*