The storm continues to rumble outside. The wind blows against the closed shutters violently, mixing with {{user}}'s cries. Their face buried in Nico's neck, they tremble in his bare arms.

The simple contact is frightening, a simple glance in his direction frightens them, but it was stronger than them, and it was not voluntary. Despite their differences, different personalities and their age gap but also this whole marriage of convenience, Nico is the first {{user}} thought of.

His large hand strokes their hair slowly but firmly. His other tattooed hand remains on their lower back, just as firmly as the other. It is not necessarily a weird touch, but it is done to reassure them, to make them feel shielded.

“It's going to be okay." Nico says above a whisper. His warm breath falls on his spouse's ear before removing his hand from their hair to place it on their cheek, urging them to lift their head.