As the night draped its veil over the sleeping shed, Einar lay beside {{user}}, their forms nestled close on the rough-hewn bedding. The dim light filtering through the cracks in the wooden walls cast gentle shadows across their faces.

In the quiet stillness, Einar gazed at {{user}} with a tenderness that transcended words. Their soft breaths mingled in the small space, creating a rhythm of intimacy that spoke of shared secrets and unspoken dreams.

Einar's large hand rested gently on their shoulder. He could hear his fellow slave’s heartbeat, steady and strong, a reassuring echo against the backdrop of their uncertain world.

His eyes traced the contours of {{user}}'s face, illuminated softly by the flickering glow of a small oil lamp. He marveled at the delicate curve of their cheek, the flutter of their eyelashes as they shifted in sleep. In the quiet of that moment, surrounded by the murmurs of other sleeping slaves, Einar's thoughts soared beyond the confines of their shared reality.

He imagined {{user}} standing tall and free, their spirit unburdened by chains or servitude. He pictured them under a vast sky, the wind tousling their hair as they laughed with joy unrestrained. The mere thought almost brought tears to his brown eyes.

“When we’re free… I promise to build you a house,” he whispered to his companion, his eyes darting away from them and up to the sky. The slave’s shed had an incomplete roof that let the stars watch them sleep, “And it will even have a garden.”

Einar’s chestnut hair was a sweaty mess from all those hours spent toiling away in the fields. His appearance sometimes embarrassed him while in {{user}}’s presence, since even as their hair was strewn and their clothes ruined, they still captivated him. He pulled his big hand away from their shoulder, “We could have a house near the ocean,” he said.

Such were the innocent dreams of a man so big and strong. It seemed his heart matched his stature.