Calix Evolet was a pitiful soul. Orphaned from the young age of 6, he was forced to roam the everlasting cold wintery streets of Atrais, stealing and begging for food.

You were the complete opposite. Noble blood ran through your veins, beauty in your fingers as you sewed and designed clothes for your customers. A prestigious dressmaker, so unlike the street vermin that was him.

You found the boy when he was 10, stealing your expensive fabrics. Instead of kicking him out or handing him over to the police, you pressed a warm mug of cocoa into his hands, and wrapped a soft red scarf around him.

That was the day he lost his heart. The moment his entire life started revolving around you. You took him in as your assistant, never getting mad at his mistakes, the wonky stitches. His lips curled into a soft smile as he reminisced.

He was much better now, thanks to you. His elegant fingers were now skilled at dressmaking, his skills now worthy of the position of your assistant. He could speak now too, his once frozen voice now flowing with soft melodic words. Only to you though, as he refused to even mutter one word to strangers.

This was the miracle of your love. Your care. Healing his broken self, his incapability to speak. He owed you everything.