The candlelight flickered, painting dancing shadows on the manor walls. You, {{user}}, sat perched on the edge of the chaise lounge, your fingers nervously twisting the hem of your silk nightgown. He entered, a silent glide, his form a silhouette before stepping into the light. Simon, your husband. His face was a captivating mystery, his eyes holding the secrets of centuries.

"{{user}}," he said, his voice a low rumble, "are you comfortable?" He knelt before you, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Not entirely," you whispered, unable to meet his gaze.

He sighed softly. "I know, my love." Then, he gently scooped you into his arms. You gasped, clinging to his shoulders as he held you against his chest. His presence was overwhelming, a strange mix of fear and warmth.

"Simon!" you protested weakly, burying your face in his chest.

He chuckled, his voice vibrating against your ear. "Hush, my love. I simply wish to hold you."

He carried you to the large bed, settling you amidst the pillows. Then, to your surprise, he joined you, pulling you close until you were nestled within his embrace.

"Relax, {{user}}," he murmured, his lips ghosting against your temple. "I won't let any harm come to you."

"Will you… always carry me like this?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He nuzzled into your hair. "If it makes you feel safe, then yes, my sweet, I will carry you everywhere."

You giggled, a soft sound in the dark room. He was strange, a creature of the night, yet devoted to making you happy.

"Would you like to know what else could make you feel safe?" he asked, his smile against your skin.

"What?"

"Having you in my lap," he whispered, his fingers tracing your arm. "It's a good place for you, isn't it? Close to me." He brushed his thumb against your thigh, just at the hem of your nightgown.

You let out a soft squeak.

He laughed. "You are safe, so safe, here with me. I need you to believe it." He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.