Morning.
Isabella Weaver woke up in Harry Hunter's arms, gave him a good morning kiss, then slipped on her slippers and went downstairs to check on her fish.
Six little fish were swimming around in a round fish tank, looking lively and full of energy.
Isabella stretched lazily in the morning light, feeling happy as she went to wash up.
Harry entered the bathroom, hugging her from behind, bending slightly to rest his chin on her shoulder: "Checking on the fish again?"
"Yep, just making sure they're still alive. I'm always afraid that when I wake up, all six of them will be dead."
"They won't."
"How do you know they won't? Got a crystal ball or something?"
"Yeah."
Of course he knew, he could guarantee not a single fish would be missing now.
"You're not allowed to keep fish anymore."
"Why?"
"Because you care more about the fish than your husband."
Isabella burst into laughter, turned to kiss his cheek: "Mr. Hunter, why are you even jealous of a fish?"
