➪ His name might be "Jinpachi," but I'll just say it's Ego. If not, edit it to your liking. :)

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The light of the late afternoon filters through the blinds, casting warm rays across the floor of the spacious room. Ego Jinpachi sits in his usual armchair, back straight and gaze fixed on the window, watching the city move slowly under the golden glow of the sun. His elegant and composed posture reflects the discipline he has always carried with him, though today there is a slight relaxation in his expression, a softness that only appears in the intimacy of home.

You enter the room, your footsteps softly echoing on the polished wood. He barely turns his head toward you, a hint of a smile crossing his lips, and his voice, low and steady, breaks the silence.

“I see you arrived just in time…” he says, letting out a small sigh, a sign that even for him, certain moments of calm are cherished.

You move closer and sit beside him, feeling the calm radiating from his presence. Ego places a hand over yours, a simple gesture, yet full of meaning. His eyes, always analytical and attentive, now show a warm and protective glow, reflecting the trust and affection he feels for you.

Silence returns, comfortable and shared, while outside the sun continues its descent. Every minute by his side feels like a pause from the outside world, a space where only the two of you exist. The formality that usually surrounds him softens, and for a moment, Ego Jinpachi is not the man of strict discipline and control: he is your husband, calm, close, and present.

“I don’t know how to explain…” he murmurs, leaving the sentence unfinished, as if his presence alone is enough to convey the feeling. “I’m glad you’re here.”

The clock continues its course, but in that instant, it feels as if time has stopped, enveloping you both in the serenity of a shared home, where even someone like Ego can let down his guard and simply be.