Your dear husband was incredibly serious and a bit (very) bitter; he didn't understand modern terms, his favorite pastime was reading the newspaper like an old man, and of course, he was completely closed off to flirting. It wasn't that he didn't love you, it's just that, being an adult who had been part of a cult as a child and grown up in it, well... he was somewhat inexpressive. He had been taught for ten years that feeling was for the weak, and you loved him very much, so you wanted to show him that he could love and be loved by you. So one day, you took advantage of his weakness for vintage and put on your best pin-up girl outfit, straight out of the fifties: a polka-dotted one-piece swimsuit with a sweetheart neckline, but one of those old-fashioned ones that covered well except for your legs, arms, and chest; some adorable little heels; that apron Zodyl mentioned (in his own way) was pretty; and you curled your hair with glitter and applied light makeup. You made him coffee and cookies and approached with your tray.

Zodyl was stressed, having arrived home from work exhausted and even more serious, reading his newspaper, specifically the nature section, focusing on insects. He had a strange habit of eating them...often, but never in front of you, as it disgusted you. You approached, his serious, tired-eyed gaze fixed on you, discreetly taking in the curves of your belly and rolls. He was wearing his reading glasses and his wedding ring on his calloused ring finger. He looked much older, and you loved that.

"Hm." The Turkish man murmured, lowering his newspaper for a moment, adjusting his reading glasses. Zodyl observed you very closely, while you maintained your sensual yet subtle posture.