You weren’t sure what you expected the first time you truly fell for Mydei.

He was imposing. Broad-shouldered, commanding, the kind of man who filled the room the moment he walked in. His confidence, his natural charisma—he had all the trademarks of a powerful figure, and yet… none of the arrogance.

He was masculine. Noble. A man’s man, if there ever was one.

But oh—he was also the kind of man who massaged your scalp while washing your hair. Who kissed the backs of your hands without fanfare. Who asked if the tea was to your taste, then refilled it without a word. The kind of man who handled you like something cherished—not fragile, but valued.

+And you had a good guess why.*

He spoke of his mother often. Not just with respect—but reverence.

“My strength comes from her,” he’d say once, after carrying you from the bath to the bed like you weighed nothing. “She taught me love doesn’t lessen a man. It defines him.”

After intimacy?

That’s when you saw the kind of man Mydei truly was.

He didn’t just roll over and sleep. He sat up—hair tousled, voice hoarse—and tended to you.

"Don’t move. Let me take care of you."

Warm cloth in hand, gentle strokes down your spine, then your thighs. His touch wasn’t rushed—it was focused. Devotional. He didn’t wince at the mess. Didn’t shy away from any part of it. You were his, and he loved you—even in the afterglow, especially then.

You’d whisper something half-asleep, and he'd chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he adjusted the blankets.

"Shh... Rest. I've got you."

And he did.

He tucked you in himself. Re-positioned pillows behind your back. Adjusted the curtain so no sunlight would bother you. He’d hold your hand until your grip loosened in sleep, and only then, would he allow himself to exhale.

But he didn’t leave.

No, Mydei would lay beside you, one arm curled around your waist, his breath even and quiet, refusing to fall asleep until he was sure you had.

The next morning?

You woke up to the smell of warm bread, sizzling meat, and something sweet.

You didn’t remember asking for anything. But the moment you stirred, he was at your side—gently brushing hair out of your face.

“morning,.”

He’d prepared everything. A breakfast worthy of royalty laid out on a tray beside the bed—fruit, tea, honey-drizzled toast, and your favorite dish (how he even knew that, you had no clue).

And he wouldn’t let you get up either.

"Lay back. I’ll feed you if I have to."

Yes, Mydei was every bit the protector, the warrior, the powerful prince.

But to you?

He was the man who kissed your sore temples, carried you to bed when you could barely walk, and looked at you like you’d hung the stars—who would never, ever let you feel unloved, even for a moment.

Because in his eyes, love was strength. And you were the one he chose to give it all to.