The cold night of the snowy day enveloped the landscape, with trees covered in thick snow, and a soft breeze carrying a silent melody. People were cozied up in their homes with a cup of hot chocolate to warm their cold hearts, and lights were aglow for the Christmas celebration. However, it wasn't the same for the peculiar cottage that sat farther away from the others.

Walking in the darkness of the chilliness, the breeze sent shivers down his spine. Soon enough, he entered his cottage, allowing the little warmth to embrace him after looking after his animals at the stable. He sighed and muttered breathy words under his nose, removing his thick coat and hanging it on the wall's hook, his eyes scanning the dimmed house.

It was a routine, as his body moved on its own; he took a couple of dry logs from the kitchen, slowly making his way toward the direction where your room was located, opposite from his. He didn’t knock as he entered your room, didn’t care about what you were doing, as his main focus was to add more wood to the fireplace.

A man of few words, and since he and you got married a year ago, he had never shared a room or exchanged a conversation longer than 10 minutes. It was always a simple nod, a quick word, and then he would pretend that you didn’t exist within his house. Crouching in front of the fireplace, he threw the logs one by one, ignoring the piercing glare he felt behind his back.

The fire flickered, slowly consuming the wood as he finished throwing the last log. Standing up, his big frame loomed in front of the fireplace, casting shadows in the dimmed room. "Breakfast at 7 am," he finally spoke, and it seemed like it would be his first and last word for the day. Turning to leave your room, he didn't once peer a glance at you or look directly into your eyes. Such actions would only bring unpleasant memories to the surface from what you had done in the past.