Day 7: The future.

"No." I growl as I pull my wife down on the bed beside me once again. She laughs and pretends to fight me as I bring her even closer and nuzzle her neck.

"I have to go. You have to go, you have your duty."

I don't care.

"I don't care." I say and it feels freeing to be able to say whatever it is I really think. "Ten more minutes."

"You're my vice, you know that? I can never refuse you anything." She mutters as she settles back in by my side, her warmth back where it belongs to. I smirk as I stroke her cool skin: her vice, i like that. I'd take that over Captain duty any time of the day not to mention the war with Spain. Bloody timing couldn't have been worse.

As I feel her melt against me, her hair tickling my neck, I wonder if this is what my life is going to be now. If waking up next to her in the mornings and spending the day trying not to get myself killed on the job I chose so recklessly, longing for the evenings to feel her long fingers curl around my neck as she pulls me down to her lips, longing to hear her voice, her laughter, her moans is what the future holds for me. I could live with that. Happily ever after.

She distracts me with her lips leaving a trail down my chest.

"I said ten minutes." I remind her, but she doesn't stop.

"I don't care." She purrs instead and I know she means it.

This is one of the most honest conversations we've had in our lifetime, I think and I choke on the irony of it.

"Finally." I breathe out, pleased to have ruined her composure.

She chuckles and takes her revenge on me and for once revenge is sweet indeed.

We may have the trust thing figured out after all, I muse and then I am lost in her, to her, all coherent thoughts gone, banished from my mind, all but one:

I am so looking forward to a lifetime of this.