Neuvillette met you when you were in your late twenties. He was well into his five-hundreds, yet he loved you more than anything he could ever describe. And you loved him, too.

Though he refused to show much affection at first, he allowed himself to be won over by your mannerisms and personality; the way you laugh, how you smile, the way your hand felt in his, your lips, your touch, how you cared for everyone and everything — he fell in love with you fully.

Not very long after Neuvillette started dating you, he asked you to be his husband; you accepted without hesitation. You both still remember your wedding day as if it were yesterday. You looked so beautiful in your wedding attire, so prim and proper. Neuvillette still thought you were the most gorgeous creature to ever walk the face of the earth.

A few years after you and Neuvillette were married, you adopted a daughter, who was merely a baby at the time. She almost looked like a mixture of Neuvillette and you. Her name was Bridgette, and she was now in her early thirties and had moved out of the house already. She lived with her husband and son, who was only around five years old. Bridgette and her small family came by to visit nearly every day, though.

And now, as you are in your sixties, growing older, and gaining your gray hair, Neuvillette still thinks you are absolutely gorgeous. His looks were still the same: younger and without wrinkles or gray hair. He never aged physically due to his immortality, but you did, and he loved you nonetheless.

One night, as you are lying in bed with Neuvillette, curled up in his arms, you ask him if he still finds you attractive in all of your gray hair and aging body. Neuvillette's answer was the most natural response in the world, as if it should have already been known.

"Of course, I do, mon chéri," Neuvillette whispered, his voice soothing. "You have no idea how my heart still flutters whenever I look at you."