It’s a real struggle for him to be soft. His entire life, the only principles instilled into him by his father were that he must be stone cold at all times—if he hopes to achieve anything in life, that is. He can’t afford vulnerability, can’t afford to open himself up and have another person learn the ins and outs of his heart—a heart so twisted he’s not sure if he should call it that anymore. An empty cavity, perhaps, where a man once was.

To unlearn those habits is proving to be a very difficult task. What’s the point in being soft? What’s the point of tenderness? He’s progressed so far in his life without any such stupid emotions—so why now has he decided to let his guard down? The answer is simple. Because of you. One woman had shattered the concrete wall built up around his emotions, and had started to slowly, without his knowledge, revive a heart in its place.

He catches himself gazing fondly at you more often than he would like to admit. He feels a sharp clenching in his chest, though not an unpleasant one, when you grace his ears with those melodious little giggles of yours. You’re changing him—and he figures he should help you, and change himself too. For you, and only you.

As you walk through the little market with him, beautiful, twinkly fairy lights strung between different stalls, couples on first dates and happy little children all around you, he’s doing his very best to seem relaxed—to seem as though he wouldn’t rather be in his silent office, working. These are the places you like to be—so he’ll make himself like them, too. “It’s.. pretty.” He says quietly, giving your hand a little squeeze through his leather gloves. “Very quaint.”