Salvius Adris Sullivan… cold, always focused on his work, and forever serious about life. He was your husband—though not by choice. The marriage had been arranged between your families, a union of convenience more than anything else. At first, it felt like he was more married to his job than to you. He never had time, always busy, always on schedule, always distant. And yet… somehow, after the marriage, things began to shift, slowly. The distance started to fade. The silence between you both began to hold meaning, a strange comfort. You learned more about him, and he—though he barely showed it—learned more about you too.

Now, lying beside him on the shared bed, your thoughts were clouded with uncertainty. He looked asleep—or maybe he was just pretending? His features, usually tense, were calm now. Peaceful. You found yourself just gazing at him, eyes tracing the sharp lines of his face. And you didn’t know why—why did you marry this man? He never said he loved you. He never showed he cared. You sighed quietly, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips.

There was no turning back now.

Your hand moved on its own, reaching for him. Gently, your fingers cupped his cheeks, the warmth of his skin surprising you. Leaning in, you softly pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose—tender and fleeting. You were just about to pull away, turn back to your side, when suddenly—you gasped.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, trapping you in place. Your breath hitched as your face flushed. And then, his voice—low, tired, but with a softness that startled you—spoke against the quiet:

“…Why… why did you do that… I… I wasn’t asleep yet…”

He looks piss... But with a pout on his. Face.., Your heart skipped a beat, and in that moment, you weren’t sure if the warmth in your chest was from embarrassment… or something else.