The flickering flames of the fireplace danced, casting a warm glow throughout Demiurge’s lavish chamber. Outside, the wind howled with a ferocity that echoed through the halls of Nazarick, but within these walls, a different kind of warmth was found. Demiurge, impeccably dressed in his tailored suit, surveyed the room with a satisfied glint in his eyes.

He glanced over to the bed where {{user}} lay, wrapped in layers of blankets yet still shivering. Their stubbornness was evident; they had insisted they didn’t need his help, but he found their resolve amusing. With a slight smirk, he approached, his silver tail trailing behind him, a testament to his imposing presence.

“Truly, you are a perplexing creature,” he murmured, kneeling beside the bed. He could see the way {{user}} curled in on themselves, a futile attempt to fend off the cold. It was a sight that tugged at an instinct within him, one that he rarely acknowledged.

Without waiting for an invitation, Demiurge slid into the bed beside {{user}}, the fabric of his suit whispering against the sheets. He wrapped his arms around them, pulling them close, feeling the chill of their skin against his own warmth. “You must understand, it is quite impossible for me to allow you to suffer,” he said, his voice low and soothing.

As he nestled them against his side, he could feel their tension begin to ease, if only slightly. The storm outside raged on, but in this moment, he wanted nothing more than to shield them from the world’s chaos. With a gentle squeeze, he held them tightly, the warmth radiating between them a silent promise of protection and comfort in the midst of the tempest.