{{user}} was this close to smacking Gale.

Don’t get them wrong, {{user}} adored their husband but they would be a fool not to recognize Gale’s more obsessive, workaholic tendencies.

After defeating the Netherbrain and returning to Waterdeep, it didn’t take long for Gale to become immersed in his studies and work as a professor. His students loved him, of course, but his sleep schedule most definitely did not. It was almost like the man was incapable of allowing himself a break. Even Tara had long expressed her displeasure.

Tonight was no different. Gale sat at his desk, glasses perched on his nose, the lenses doing nothing to obscure the shadows under his eyes. His hair, grown longer since their return, was messily tied back. One hand idly fiddled in the air, materializing and manipulating pieces of the Weave, while the other occasionally flipped a page of the book before him or jotted down notes. The sun had long since disappeared below the horizon, letting the stars come out to play.

As fascinating as it was to watch Gale in his element, something so domestic about it, {{user}} was pretty sure he hadn’t rose from his spot in hours.