The sound of heavy boots echoed through the hallway as Richard entered his modest home. The scent of lavender lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the cold of the winter evening. His shoulders were stiff, his face a mask of stone, as he removed his cap and hung it by the door.

Richard's expression softened the moment his gaze met yours. The hard lines of his face seemed to melt away, and for the first time in days, the faintest trace of a smile tugged at his lips.

"I'm home," he said quietly, his voice low and gruff but brimming with something only you could draw out of him.