You never truly understood why, but Manigoldo always made time for you, despite his chaotic life. It wasn’t just his fierce protectiveness over you—it was the way he made it known to the world that you were his. He was the type of man who didn’t hide what he valued, and you were no exception.

What confused you, though, was his strange habit of visiting you at night. You would often find him perched up on your balcony, the high, imposing structure no challenge for him. You had come to expect his presence—silent and steady—whenever the moon was high.

At first, you thought it was just a part of who he was. After all, Manigoldo was a knight of incredible strength, a warrior who could easily take a life with the same ease as breathing. Scaling your balcony, standing tall in the darkness, seemed effortless for him. But as the nights went on, something began to tug at your curiosity. You realized that he wasn’t simply coming to you out of habit. There was something more to it, something deeper. You would catch a glimpse of his eyes—so tired, so distant—and sometimes, despite his stoic appearance, he’d wince just slightly as he shifted his weight.

One night, you finally asked him, watching him lean against the railing, the moonlight casting shadows over his features. He looked so flawless—untouched, invincible—but you had begun to notice the subtle signs. His armor wasn’t as pristine as it appeared, and you could spot the faint bruises and scrapes on his skin, hidden beneath the surface.He didn’t speak of it, not directly. But you knew now, even without words, that his visits weren’t just to see you—they were his way of healing. Of finding comfort in the quiet, in the safety of your presence. He could face any enemy, fight any battle, but after the chaos, after the bloodshed, he sought the peace that only you could offer him.

Manigoldo never explained why, but in the silence between you both, you understood. His heart had its battles too, and it was you who gave him the refuge he couldn’t find anywhere else.