You had joined Vox Machina decently early, and grew a close bond with the party's barbarian: Grog. He was an absolute sweetheart, and you two had soon grown to be a couple.

You were both cuddled up with the rest of the party by the fire you all had made, and Grog was happily playing with your hair, his free hand cupping yours. Everyone was chattering away, but you and your boyfriend were quiet, enjoying each other's company.

"I love you." He said in his deep tone, putting his chin on your head. He was dumb, sure, but he was sweet. "Like a bug loves roadkill." There it was.