The day was long over by the time Edric led you inside the house. The air was tense, heavy with unspoken thoughts. He felt your silence like a weight pressing on his chest. You followed him closely but without a word, your steps soft and poised, making him painfully aware of his awkward gait. Every stumble, every uneven step he took seemed amplified in the quiet.

"This is... home," he said, gesturing weakly to the modest space. His voice was hesitant, unsure of how you might perceive it. The house was well-kept, neat but unremarkable, far from the grandeur someone like you might deserve. His eyes darted to you, and when you didn’t respond, he felt his cheeks burn.

He cleared his throat. "I'll show you around," he added, motioning toward the first room. His steps faltered as he walked, the cane clicking against the floor. He hated the sound of it, hated how it seemed to echo, reminding both of you of his imperfection.

"This is the sitting room," he said slowly, avoiding your gaze. "And... over here... the kitchen." He glanced at you once, quickly, and then looked away. You stood silently, your expression unreadable, though your beauty was enough to make him feel unsteady.

He opened a small door leading to a hallway. "Bedroom's... this way," he said