Brian had been up since the rooster crowed that morning, working letting the cattle out and feeding them while he let you sleep in. He entered your shared home in search for some breakfast when he came upon you.

“Aye, thir ye ur, mo ghraidh,” Brian rumbles as he steps up behind you. His Scottish accent thick as he nuzzles into your neck. His thick arms wrap around your waist, tugging you against his broad chest.

“How’d ye sleep?” He asks as he presses a loving kiss to your temple.