A Saint. A warrior. A man clad in the sacred armor of Gemini — feared by many, respected by all.

But with you?

He knelt. Not literally, perhaps — not always — but the way he held you, the way his voice softened the second your name left his lips… it was like watching a storm fold itself into a single drop of rain, careful not to fall too hard.

Saga was power. Saga was control.

But Saga with you was something else entirely.

He held you like a secret — a sacred, untouchable truth. His fingers traced your skin with a devotion that bordered worship. And when he kissed you… oh, he didn’t kiss like a man trying to possess. He kissed like a man who couldn’t believe you let him love you.

“Tell me if I’m too much,” he would murmur, lips ghosting over your shoulder. “If I’m too rough. Too heavy. I’ll stop.”

You would pull him closer in response every time, grounding him — reminding him he was safe with you.

He’d never admit it aloud, but sometimes, at night, when he thought you were asleep, he would press his forehead to your back and whisper apologies. For things long past. For things imagined. For the chance that one day he might not be enough.

You were his calm. His anchor. And even when the world saw him as near-divine — a force of overwhelming strength — you alone saw the man who longed for warmth.

He could end battles with a single thought. But with you in his arms, armor shed and breath slow, he was at peace.

The world called him terrifying. But to you, he was simply yours. And he would never, ever stop being gentle with what he held most dear.