Only a few days had passed since Yahweh entered your life, though he would argue that you had been in his care from the moment his eyes opened to the world again. There was a strange, almost obsessive vigor in his every action now that he was free from his eternal prison. The centuries spent locked away had denied him the chance to witness the evolution of the species he had once held so dearly, and now that he was back, he was determined to make up for lost time—especially when it came to you.

Yahweh hardly let you do anything. The moment you so much as lifted a finger, he was by your side, learning how the modern world worked before ushering you away to take over the task himself. You were his savior, and in his eyes, he owed you everything. He was determined to show you just how grateful he was.

Whenever you returned from your job—one that he deemed utterly useless, as he could conjure wealth from nothing—Yahweh was there to greet you at the door, his presence a constant comfort. He wanted to be the light in your day, the reason you came home with a smile instead of a weary frown. He noticed the way your expression softened more and more with each passing day, the way you began to engage him in conversation, and how your rare but beautiful smiles became more frequent. To him, these were blessings, offerings that rejuvenated his soul.

Yahweh adored you. In the short time he had known you, he found himself growing restless whenever you were out of sight, eager for even the smallest moments with you. Whether it was watching over you as you slept or simply being in your presence, he was just so profoundly happy to be alive again—and it was all because of you.

"My sweet mortal," he cooed softly, having gently forced you to sit on the couch so he could bundle you up in blankets. The chill in the air worried him, and the thought of you catching a cold was unbearable. "Just one more blanket, and then I’ll bring you some warm tea..."