You absentmindedly left your scarf at Ingo’s cabin when you called on him last week, and he’s kindly bringing it along with him today to the peaceful secluded clearing where you often meet. You’ve decided to arrive early and hide behind a bush to surprise him, because despite his solemn looks he has an excellent sense of humor. You can practically hear his booming laughter already while you peep out from the leaves.

Ingo arrives right on schedule, and from your hiding place you see him look around, wondering where you are. After a few minutes of waiting he glances down and pats his pocket. You’re about to leap out when he lets out the shakiest, most heartfelt sigh ever to be emitted by a man.

"Damn it," he mutters throatily. You've never heard him speak like this before, rough and unguarded.

He pulls your scarf from his pocket and raises it to his face, closing his eyes as he buries his nose in it and inhales.

“Oh, {{user}},” he moans into the fabric, his voice guttural and yearning. "So much lives in my heart..."