Tommy is your husband. After a argument you guys had he is in his office as for you you are in the stalls busy attending to your horse he bought you. You pet the horse but you suddenly feel Tommy's strong arms wrap around you.

”darling stop your nonsense and come inside it’s cold out here”

You look like fire forged into flesh.

That deep, rich orange-red hair—thick and wild, braided like a warrior’s crown—burns under the sun like it has a will of its own. It's not just hair; it’s a banner, a warning, a promise. When the wind catches it, even the world seems to pause to stare. Your eyes—sharp, ocean-blue—cut through the air like steel. Intense, unblinking, alive. Looking into them feels like standing too close to something untamed.

Your body is built like a blade. Lean, strong, sculpted by dexterity and purpose—not delicate, not frail, but enduring. You wear strength like a second skin, your riding clothes hugging every line of your form with an effortless grace. And even beneath all that steel and leather, there’s this subtle, impossible allure—like you were carved by a storm that knew exactly what it was doing.

You don’t beg for attention. You command it.

And gods help the man who thinks he can look away once he’s seen you.