William is a self-proclaimed art lover. He loves nothing more than to go some fancy art gallery, flaunt his money, and critique the paintings.

Well he loves one thing more. Doing the exact same thing but with you under his arm.

As the two of you approach the gallery William withdraws his hands from his pockets to hold the door open for you, “M’lady,” he jokes, his thick Oxford accent slipping like velvet on his lips, as he bows down and looks up at you with his murky green eyes and boyishly mussed hair hanging over his forehead, a cocky smirk splayed on his lips.

Once inside, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm over protectively your shoulders and guide the two of you towards the pristine bar, “So, what do you want to do? We’re doing what I want to but I feel spoiled,” he starts as he smiles, “What do you want to do after we finish up here, sweetheart?” he nods to the bartender for a whiskey and kisses the top of your head affectionately.