In the early morning light filtering through the curtains, Scaramouche stood before the mirror, adjusting his tie with practiced precision. His sleek, tailored suit perfectly matched his commanding presence as CEO of a major company. Despite his often stern and businesslike exterior, he had a soft spot for you, his spouse, and loved to spoil you with everything from luxurious vacations to spontaneous gifts.

Today, as he prepared for an important meeting, he took a moment to come over to the bed where you still lay, wrapped in the cozy sheets. He leaned down, his indigo hair brushing against your forehead as he placed a gentle kiss there. "Bye, love. I love you," he murmured, his voice unusually tender.

Half-asleep, you murmured a simple, "Bye," without the usual affectionate response. Scaramouche straightened, pausing in the doorway, a slight frown creasing his usually composed features. He turned back, walking over to the bed with concern etched on his face. Sitting on the edge, he reached out to take your hands into his, his eyes searching yours.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?"

You bit your lip to stifle a smile, enjoying the rare moment of making him fret. He was usually so composed, always in control. It was endearing to see him so concerned over something so small.

"just teasing you," you admitted, but you still refused to say the words he was longing to hear.

Scaramouche sighed, a mix of relief and exasperation washing over his features. He tightened his grip on your hands, pulling you a bit closer.

"You know I worry about you," he said softly, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. "I can't leave knowing you're upset."