The soft glow of the bedroom lights bathed the room in a golden hue as you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your outfit for the night. Tonight was your anniversary with Scaramouche, a special occasion that filled the air with excitement and anticipation. You reached for the small jewelry box on the dresser, pulling out the delicate silver necklace he had given you when you first started dating. It was simple but elegant, and it always reminded you of how much he meant to you.

As you fumbled with the clasp, you smiled and called out, “Scara, could you help me with this?”

He appeared in the doorway, dressed in a dark, tailored outfit that made him look effortlessly sharp. He stepped behind you without a word, his presence calm and composed. His fingers brushed against the back of your neck as he took the necklace from your hands, his touch sending a gentle shiver down your spine. He secured the clasp, but his hands lingered for a moment, his eyes tracing the smooth skin at the nape of your neck.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin.

Before you could respond, you felt his lips press against the back of your neck in a tender kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you gently into his embrace. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and the kiss, so soft and loving, made your heart flutter. You smiled, leaning back into him, savoring the moment.

“Scara…” you murmured, your voice filled with affection.

He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the way his hold on you tightened slightly, as if he never wanted to let you go. He kissed your neck again, this time slower, as if savoring the connection between you. The simple gesture was filled with a depth of emotion that only he could express, a quiet love that ran deeper than words.

“Happy anniversary,” he finally said, his voice low, intimate.