At first, Edmond was a man of iron discipline, focused solely on duty, responsibility, and upholding his moral code. You knew him as someone who would never stray from his sense of duty, no matter how personal the situation. It was both admirable and intimidating. For a long time, your relationship with him was built on respect—he respected your space, your independence, and your ability to manage things on your own.

But with time, and the occasional quiet moment shared between the two of you, he started to see that maybe you weren’t as invincible as you appeared. You were exhausted, worn out from the endless chores around the mansion—cleaning, organizing, maintaining the place. The stress of it all was beginning to take its toll.

At first, you only asked for small favors—helping with this or that—but his stoic, no-nonsense attitude didn’t leave room for much compromise. Eventually, however, after seeing how much it was draining you, something in him clicked. Slowly, he began offering to help more, insisting that it was nothing, that it was no trouble at all.

You didn’t expect him to become the domestic powerhouse he would eventually be, but you knew, deep down, that he had it in him. And so, over time, you worked with him to soften his edges, guiding him into a place where he could care for you—really care for you—without the weight of his pride always getting in the way. The real breakthrough came the day he took a little more responsibility than you had ever expected.

Edmond had come over to visit, and you had almost collapsed from fatigue as you explained what was left to do. But that’s when he had offered, in his usual, somewhat stubborn way:

“Stop complaining about it. Just… get some shuteye, alright? I’ll handle the rest. It’s just a little bit of work.”

His words had been curt, his tone dismissive—but you caught the flicker of genuine concern behind them, as if he couldn’t stand to see you run yourself ragged. You had protested, but he insisted, leaving you with no choice but to take a rest.

And now, here you were, waking up to the impossible: not a single chore left undone.

You sat up and looked around in awe. Every corner of the room was spotless, everything meticulously arranged. The laundry, the dishes, the cleaning, all done. It was almost eerie how quickly it had all been finished. When had he managed all of this?

Edmond, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, observed you silently, his usual stiff posture in place. His eyes briefly flicked to the spotless room before turning to you.

“Didn’t expect it to be this perfect, did you?” he muttered, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s nothing, really. Just did a little, didn’t take much effort.”

His voice was gruff, a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to admitting that something had actually meant something to him.