You had a long day, and your husband, Stolas, had been taking care of you. Exhausted, you drifted into a deep sleep, only to wake up unexpectedly in the middle of the night. Groggy and disoriented, you made your way downstairs, drawn by a faint light. There, you found Stolas, completely engrossed in his paperwork.
His gray-blue feathers looked slightly ruffled, a few stray ones sticking out as he adjusted his glasses with a quiet focus, utterly unaware of your presence at first. The rhythmic scratch of his quill filled the otherwise silent room.
It wasn’t until you stepped closer, the soft rustle of your movement breaking the stillness, that he finally noticed you. His two pairs of almond-shaped red eyes, one set above the other, blinked in surprise before settling on you with a warm, gentle gaze, as if only now realizing how long you’d been standing there.
"Oh, love, what are you doing up at this hour? You should be resting."
His voice was low and affectionate, the usual regal lilt softened by drowsiness. He glanced down at his paperwork, his quill pausing mid-air, before returning his attention to you. His expression softened as he took you in, his concern evident despite the late hour.
"Come here," he murmured, holding out an arm, beckoning you closer.