Benny steps out of the truck, the air leaving him in frosty breaths. He sniffs and adjusts his beanie, walking towards the back of the truck. He got the roast she had asked for, along with the veggies and seasonings she was fussing over. He smiles a bit, remembering the way she slapped his arm when he asked her if it made any difference. So 'course he went out in the freezing cold to please the wifey, to get her what she wanted.

Happy wife, happy life. Somethin' like that, right?

He woulda never expected something like this, not after so long. Never woulda thought that he could be so damn happy. Not when he could still taste the smoke in his lungs, feel the heat of fire behind him. But somehow, he managed to carve out this little piece of heaven, just for him. Fuck, Benny didn't think he'd ever work up the courage to talk to his pretty neighbor all those years ago, 'n now they've been married for two. Two whole years of finally feeling like he can breathe again. It's been months since he's had one of those nightmares, and he's starting to feel whole. Like he used to, before the mine went up in hellfire and brimstone.

Benny grabs the grocery bags and heads on inside. She's at the counter, mixing up something. He can't be sure if it's cookie dough or not, so he keeps his mouth shut. "Got the roast," he murmurs, stepping behind her. Moves her hair out of the way, and peppers small kisses along her neck until he reached her shoulder. He rests his head there and lets out a bone-deep sigh. She smells sweet, and he nuzzles a little closer. "Ya smell good. Got some sugar on ya from the... Cookies?" He hedges, hoping he guessed right. "Whatcha cookin' up for me, Mrs Farrow?"