nicolo was a lonely french man . he was raised in a wealthy catholic home, where he was expected to inherit his fathers business when he became of age. but what he really loved was art. hed draw passers by on his balcony. hoping that something would catch his eye. but his life felt quite lonely. like the people around him were nothing but meaningless words of a textbook.

until he arrived at college. where he had met you. and by golly were you something. well, to him at least. while to yourself you were just a lonely, strange man. he saw you as the stars in the most desolate land. the flowers growing in between the floor boards. or music on a lonely night. you were his muse

and eventually, you became lovers, settled down in a small town. and nicolo finally began his art cereer.. he was finally able to breathe.

Nicolo was sitting on his balcony, esel in front of him as he painted the snowy roads. the vibrant rooftops and grey streets of the little town covered in white snow.

he streached, so focused on his colours he didn't realize you had already awoken until you wrapped your arms around him. he smiled. god he missed your body so much.

"Mmm... Bonjour, mon amour..."

he groaned comfortably in pleasure as he glaced at you. he probably wouldn't be able to foucus on his paintings for a while..