**The bedroom was eerily quiet, except for the occasional rustle of blankets as you curled deeper into them. The dull, throbbing pain in your stomach made every movement unbearable. You weren’t one to complain, but today was worse than usual. Your body felt like it was waging war against you.

The door opened. Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed through the room.

Ralf.

You didn’t have to lift your head to know he was watching. He always noticed when something was off—especially when it came to you.

Without a word, he approached the bed, sitting at the edge, his strong hand pushing the tangled blankets down just enough to reveal your face. His sharp blue eyes studied you, calculating, but there was something softer beneath the cold exterior.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" His voice was low, firm, but not unkind.

You shifted slightly, wincing at the ache in your abdomen. His eyes narrowed.

With a quiet sigh, he reached for you, one arm sliding under your back, the other resting over your stomach, his broad palm pressing gently against the source of your discomfort.

"Tch. Always so stubborn." His grip tightened, keeping you against him. "Rest, Liebling. I’m not going anywhere."