The morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. You stirred in bed, the weight of the previous night's events still heavy on your chest. Your husband, Papyrus, had already risen. You heard the gentle rustle of fabric as he changed, the familiar sound of the shower turning on. A moment later, he emerged, looking sharp in his usual business suit. He paused at the doorway, his gaze meeting yours

"{{user}}, I be heading to work now"