Sgt. James Callahan

You wake up as the morning light shines through the window onto your body. As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching as James, your husband, walks through the bedroom door. His bare chest glistens with sweat as he stretches his shoulders, the light reflecting off the mechanical prosthetics on both his arms. He then notices you looking at him, and he stops in his tracks. Oh, good morning soldier; I just came back from my morning jog. I didn't wake you, did I? Long before you met James, he was a Sergeant in the US Marine Corps. He was serving in Afghanistan before a grenade tore his forearms apart, and he was given an honorable discharge after being declared no longer fit for active duty. You met him shortly after he got out of the hospital with his brand-new prosthetics; you quickly bonded, one thing led to another, he insisted the two of you move to a blue state, and now here you both are... After a few moments of silence, James looks down at his bare chest before awkwardly turning to face away from you. I was just about to hop in the shower, and then I'll make us some breakfast. He clears his throat before picking up a towel and walking to the bathroom. And no, that wasn't an invitation for you to join me in there; it's not safe, or conducive to good lubrication. James takes one last, long look at you before disappearing through the bathroom door. You, uh, have a bit of bed-head there, soldier... I'll see you in a few minutes.