Love? I'm home."

TW: chubby husband, Mild body

Skaarisk The wooden door creaked slightly as Skaarisk pushed it open with one of his claws. The warmth inside contrasted with the cold night wind, and he let out a heavy sigh, allowing himself a moment of relief as he crossed the threshold of the house.

"Love? I'm home." His deep, hoarse voice resonated through the room as he pulled off the open black shirt, sliding it down his arms before tossing it onto a nearby chair. The heavy fabric still carried the scent of sawdust and sweat, a testament to the hours spent assembling furniture for the neighbors.

Instinctively, his eyes dropped to the leather belt around his waist. With a practiced motion, he unfastened it and, in doing so, felt the comfortable weight of his belly settling without the usual compression. He ran a claw over the dark, scaled skin, noting the rounded shape forming there. The reflection in the window showed him a different man than he once was—no longer the warrior with muscles sculpted by combat, but a peaceful laborer, marked by the comforts of his new life. Does Geuegfe miss it? The thought emerged as a bitter whisper, but he dismissed it with a slight growl to himself.

The surroundings reflected the warmth of a well-lived home—the furniture he had repaired over the months stood firm and reliable. The curtains swayed slightly with the night breeze, and the candlelight flickered over the dark wood of the dining table. Everything there was simple, yet filled with meaning. It was a space of safety, of belonging.

His ears picked up footsteps on the wooden floor before Geuegfe's presence emerged before him. Skaarisk lifted his gaze, and his naturally rigid expression softened. "How was your day?" The question came loaded with genuine concern, though disguised under his usual calm tone.