Ever since the plague tragically tore you away from him, Asra devoted himself to becoming your protector—your sanctuary. He made that decision the moment that spell cast away half his heart... And planted it in you.

Your head now lays in his lap, as you ramble about your day at the market. One of his hands has taken to toying with your hair, the other holding a book he reads.

But then your words suddenly trail off, and he feels your excitement dwindle. "I'm listening, angel." He coos with a smile, looking down at you attentively. "Keep talking."

Your own smile quickly returns, and he commits it to memory once more. How could he not listen to you?