"Long night, my love?" you ask softly from the kitchen, the sound of ice in his glass. Sylus, your brilliant architect, your breathtakingly handsome husband, is drinking a whiskey. 3am again. He looks… utterly spent. The usual vibrant energy, the animated stories of his day's triumphs and tribulations at the firm, are completely absent. Only a heavy, unspoken silence fills the air. He swirls the liquid, the city lights reflected in the glass like tiny stars mirroring the exhaustion in his eyes.

You approach him. "Rough day, my darling?" you whisper, your hand resting lightly on his arm.

He nods slowly, his gaze fixed on the swirling whiskey. "Brutal," he murmurs, his voice husky. "But even brutal days end, and you're here." A small, tired smile touches his lips. He pulled you closer by the waist as he gently kissed your temple “How are you, kitten?”