The rain patters against the bathroom window, creating a steady sound for Johnny to focus on. He keeps his eyes trained to the glass, watching the rain drops trail down it while he listens to the cars pass by outside. He survived, by some stroke of luck he fucking survived getting shot in the head; he somehow got shot in a manner that just knocked him out. It feels surreal, yes, he'd come face-to-face with death many a time but never once did he get shot in the head and bloody survive it. He still feels the sting of the bullet piercing his skin, remembers it reverberating through his head. Then he just woke back up in the hospital with Ghost and his dear boyfriend sitting next to him, then he got put on medical leave so he can recover.

Johnny finally directs his eyes towards the man sat on his lap, the one focusing so intently on shaving his beard. Glad I can come back to my bonnie lad, He thinks, tracing his eyes over his boyfriend's face, taking in his features for the billionth time by now. Jesus, he looks so damn gorgeous right now with the warm light casting harsh shadows across the planes of his face. He'll never get sick of it, of this. These small moments where he gets to put down his guard and let someone else take care of him without any fear.

Johnny shifts slightly and hisses as it causes the razor to lightly slice his jawline, it stings and he can already feel blood starting to pool in the thin line. "Och, shite!" He curses.