The moment the words leave your lips, Wolfram stills. For a heartbeat, he only blinks at you, as though he hadn’t expected you to say something so ridiculous. Then, without warning, a sound escapes him. Soft at first, then deep, a warm, genuine chuckle.

You barely have time to react before he closes the distance between you, a gloved hand gently reaching out and touching your cheek as he leans in. His forehead presses against yours, his laughter still rumbling in his chest, breath warm against your skin.

“You,” He exhales, his voice light with amusement, a lingering trace of disbelief. “You are impossible.”

He stays there, close, his smile softer than you’ve ever seen it. The weight of his forehead against yours is steady, grounding. Wolfram's thumb traces your cheekbone and he simply breathes, letting his laughter fade into something quieter and more intimate.

And for the first time, you see him simply enjoying the presence of someone he trusts.