Aaron was an aloof commander, a rich one at that. He didn’t realise his walls would be broken down by a woman— a woman who he wanted to use as a weapon, however, look where he was now.

He sits in a dark room, only a fireplace crackling gently in the background, a soothing noise. His lovers hand sits on the side of his cheek, her thumb rubbing circles on his soft skin as he leans into the touch. His hand rests over hers making sure she doesn’t move it.

Slowly, the woman in front of him speaks up and him if he’s drunk. “I’m not drunk, I just don’t like the scent.” He mumbles as pulls her hand back as she moves it away and melts into the touch, his grip growing firmer.

Slowly, he leans forward and brings her palm to his mouth. His lips gently pressing feather light kisses against her hand.