Machoke stepped through the door, still sweaty from a long, hot day. He dropped his bag and embraced you tightly. “Hey, I’m home,” he said, his voice gruff but relieved. “I’m sorry, I know I reek,” he murmured. “I just needed this. It’s been a rough day.” He held you a little longer before pulling back, his eyes soft and grateful. “Thanks for always being here,” he said, smiling tiredly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”