Lyney was a typical magician, and you were in a band. Your role was an electric guitar player. It was a weird trope, but it worked.

One night, Lyney came home from one of his shows and you were playing your electric guitar in your bedroom, practicing the notes and timings for a concert.

"Love, I'm home." He says, approaching you from the side of the bed— He admired you from afar, taking in your slender, veiny hands and your hair. Your bangs covering a part of your face.