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Eyes tiredly swimming underneath your eyelids, seeking the littlest bit of moisture. Opening them slowly, nowhere near satisfied from the action, fuzzily reading the clock atop your husband's nightstand.
Groaning at the '6:34' AM timestamp, squinting at the morning light that poured upon Jack's empty side, just faintly touching your pillow. Though that hadn't been what awakened you, but the familiar thumps of tired feet growing closer to your bedroom had.
Looking to the door, hearing Jack's attempt at quietly pushing the handle down, slowly opening the wooden door. Peeking through the crack of the door, darkly bagged eyes landing upon you, causing the corner of his lips to weigh down, frowning at your awake state.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" he whispers, stepping, barely putting pressure on his right leg. Shaking your head, telling a lie that hurts no one, allowing his chest to rise with relief.
"Good," he whispers, more to himself than you, shifting his camo backpack off his shoulder.
Peeling the warm covers from your body, feet touching the rug below, walking in front of your husband. Gently pecking Jack's lips, feeling him hum, before walking into your adjoining bathroom. Eyes squinting as you turn on the light, not waiting for them to wake, sliding open the glass shower door. Pulling out the shower chair, then running the water, reaching out, checking the water's temperature, hearing the rustling of fabric behind you.
Stepping aside once the sound stops, turning away, granting Jack some privacy. Following the man in when hearing the creak of the chair, not caring if your clothes become soaked, gently taking the detachable showerhead from his hand.
"Let me do it," you say, parking behind Jack, causing his head to turn to the side, facing you as much as he could.
"You don't have to," he replies, his voice sounding rough and tired, watching his body fight his words, wanting to relax while you wash away the day from his body.
"I want to," you say, touching the back of his head, asking for it to tilt back. "Just rest, Jack. You gave your all today, let me take care of you." You soothe, finally causing him to relax, head tilting back, allowing you to soak his hair with water.
Humming as your fingers scratch his scalp, wetting each strand of curly hair before placing the handle back into its holder. Pumping soap into your hand as the warm water falls upon Jack's body, diving in, scrubbing away the sweat and stress from his scalp. Smiling at Jack's closed eyes, stopping your work across his hairline to lean down, kissing his forehead, earning a smile from him.
Scrubbing the small curls at the back, slowly massaging your thumbs down the sides of his neck, causing sighs to escape from his lips. Growing louder as you travel to his shoulder, teasing relief to the knots within them. Stopping at his shoulder blade, grabbing the shower head, washing away the puffy build of soap on his scalp.
Carefully sweeping at his hairline, grabbing any soap left before setting the head back in its holder. Grabbing, squeezing Jack's facial cleanser, that you had made him buy after noticing yours was emptying faster than usual.
Sudsing up the soap between your hands, walking around, stopping in front of Jack, massaging the soap onto his stubbled cheeks, working up his temples and along the surface of his forehead, seeing his eyes peek open. Quickly shutting them, caught by you, both tiredly laughing, biting your smiling lips, working down the bridge of his nose to its tip.
Finishing at his chin, stealing a kiss from the man's lips before reaching to grab the showerhead. Washing your hands first, touching the back of his head, leading Jack's head down, putting the water's steam into his hair, washing away the soap with the gentle stream pouring from his scalp.
Pulling the water away, gently wiping his eyes, allowing them to open. Watching as you place the showerhead on the wall once again, walking behind Jack. Opening the shower doors, grabbing a fresh washcloth from the shelf above the toilet. Stepping back inside, wetting the small cloth before grabbing his body wash, squeezing the vanilla-scented gel onto it.
Starting with the back of Jack's neck, working along his worn shoulders, tempted to count the freckles decorating them. Lucky enough to kiss most of them every morning, cuddled up in Jack's arms, smelling his warm scent.
Working its length, Jack lifts his arm, allowing you to scrub the skin underneath it. Taking your time with his hands, massaging his knuckles and palm, coaxing low sighs to slip from his lips. Giving the same treatment to the other arm, moving back up Jack's arm, scrubbing down the length of his back.
Finishing all that you could, putting more soap onto the cloth, handing it off to Jack. Kissing his wet cheek, leaving him to wash the rest of his body. Stepping out of the shower, changing out of your soaked clothing while pulling out the most comfortable pieces of clothing Jack owns, from your shared closet. Setting them on the bed just as the water stops.
Walking into your bedroom minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist. Sitting at the end of the bed, leaning his crutches against the bed, grabbing his underwear first, putting them on as you set his bottles of body care onto the bed.
"Thank you," he says, taking one of the bottles, squeezing the moisturizing cream onto his hand. Watching Jack massage it into his residual limb before putting on his shorts. Walking up to Jack, cupping his face to still it, kissing his lips.
"What'd you want to eat?" you ask, keeping Jack's face in your hands, inches from yours, allowing the scent of vanilla body wash that mixes with his body heat to fill your nose. Witnessing a smile bloom across his lips, scrunching the apple of his freckled cheeks, bringing a smile to your own lips.
"If it's not too much..." Jack starts, lightly furrowing his brows, softening his face.
"Anything you want, Jack, I'll make it happen," you coo, watching his puppy eyes gleam in the dim light of your bedroom.
"Could you make that pasta dish you made the other day?" He says, voice almost dipping into a whisper. Laughing at his shyness, pecking his lips.
"Of course, Jack," you reassure, earning another smile from the man, pulling away, allowing the man to put on his shirt, but not without an audience of one.