The relief that swelled within me when he stumbled through the door, hurt but alive, overflowed into my expression, and when his eyes met mine, it was like a gentle caress of protection against my skin.

I wanted to reach out and soothe away the weariness in his eyes, take it and make it my own so he need suffer no longer. I wanted his eyes to never leave mine. I wanted. I wanted.

But what I wanted wasn't important.

When he asked me to smile for him, I was startled by his request; out of everything he could have asked me to do for him, it was bizarre. I would have done anything. Whatever he asked. To seek such a small gesture from me in return didn't make sense after all he'd given.

I did it regardless: if it's what he desired, I would willingly comply.