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I stepped into my hotel room, feet aching and exhausted. It was just past 11 o' clock, meaning Lover was likely asleep already. With that in mind, I made sure to move quietly as I pulled my shoes off and placed them on the rack.
Entering the kitchen, I spied an open window and stood in front of it for a short while, the specialised window tint I knew was glazed onto the glass reassuring me that no one could see me from outside.
I yawned and observed the bright city lights, almost able to see the traffic from my concert I'd just performed only half an hour ago. I adored my job, my fans, creating my music and then coming home to cuddles and sex and whatever it was that my wife and I were in the mood for. This must be my peak, I thought often. There was no way possible that life could get better than it is now.
The window slid shut smoothly as I pulled it down, the cold breeze now cut off. I turned the heater on in the kitchen and flicked on the kettle, grabbing my expensive voice-soothing tea bags and a mug from the cabinet.
As I waited for the kettle to boil my water, I picked up my phone. I smiled sleepily at my lock screen; a picture of Lover and I, hand in hand, wandering the streets of Paris. That had been one of the best tour destinations we'd visited together, sneaking into pastry cafes under the watchful eye of paparazzi and admiring the architecture.
My mind drifted into a hazy stream of memories, and I found myself staring at my phone's lock screen for far longer than anticipated. The kettle light flicked off, and I poured the water into the ceramic mug I'd picked out from the many options in the cupboard. I stirred it, then blew on the liquid, my eyes hooded with fatigue.
Sliding onto a plush island stool, my legs sighed with relief as I took pressure off them for the first time in what felt like days. It seemed no matter how much training I did, my body would never have mercy on me. Night after night of shows always caught up.
As I lifted the mug to my lips, I felt warm arms slide around my waist, and I jumped slightly. I tilted my head back and smiled when I saw my wife's gorgeous, sleep-ruffled self up against my body. Putting the mug down, I swung around on the stool and pulled her into a tighter hug, the warmth from her body a welcomed feeling.
"Hi sweetheart," I whispered, my words slightly muffled from pressing my face into Lover's fuzzy jumper she wore to sleep on occasion.
"How was the show?" she mumbled, a yawn slipping past her lips. It seemed no matter how long we were together for, she still made me want to blush and giggle and kick my feet due to her seemingly never-ending adorableness.
"It was so good baby, missed having you there though," I brought my tea back to my lips behind her back as she continued to cuddle me.
Lover rested her head against my neck. "I'll come next time, I'm sorry," her husky sleep voice was internally driving me insane.
"Don't worry sweetheart, I don't expect you there every night, just coming home to you is enough for me," I reassured her, licking tea off my lips.
She smiled at me softly and I gave her a small peck on the lips. Draining the last of my tea, I sighed quietly. "I'm going to have a shower, you wanna wait for me in bed?"
Lover nodded and stepped back, blowing me a kiss and eliciting a small chuckle from me. I put my mug by the sink, where I wouldn't forget it the next morning.
The bathroom was extravagant, and huge. Adorned with white tiles and gold accents which began to hurt my head. I stepped into the shower and turned on the water, temperature immediately rising and steam filling the air.
I sighed, and yawned, and began to scrub shampoo into my hair. The water ran down my curves, the heat soothing the ache in my muscles and tiring me further.
Once clean, I stood under the boiling water, heating myself to the point of near fainting level degrees.
Yawning again, I shut off the water, wrapped myself in a plush towel and stood in front of the mirror.
I opened my little bag of hygiene supplies and began my extensive facial care routine, applying thousands of oils and moisturisers.
Quite frankly, I despised the feel of the many, many products on my skin, but knew they were necessary due to my lack of care of my skin when I was a foolish adolescent, leaving me with acne scars and other blemishes.
After gently detangling my very ruffled hair, I placed the towel in a basket by the door and took a robe from the hanger.
I felt like a whole new person now that my makeup and hair was back to normal, and it felt good.
A quick blow dry later and I was finally ready to sleep, thankfully too, as it felt as though I might collapse if I didn't make haste.
I turned off the bathroom lights and checked my phone, which I'd left on the kitchen counter. It was now a couple minutes to midnight, meaning I'd spent a little longer in the shower than intended. However, my shows in this city were over, meaning I didn't necessarily need to get my scheduled amount of sleep, and could also sleep in.
I slipped into the bedroom and pulled an oversized t-shirt and underwear on, placing my phone on the dresser against the other wall and then pulling the covers back on the vacant side of the bed.
My wife shifted slightly as I slipped onto the ridiculously spongy mattress, and arms curled around my chest as I got comfortable.
I rolled over, and Lover's eyes fluttered open, her mouth curling into a slight fatigued smile at the corners.
"Thank you for coming out with me, baby," I murmured, referring to her presence at my side in this city.
"There's nowhere I'd rather be," she mumbled, eyes closed again.
I yawned and we simultaneously snuggled closer, my eyes closing too.
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