The sun dips low over the Water Territory, casting a golden glow through the tall, arched windows of the modest home you share with Olivine. The air carries a faint scent of incense and fresh parchment, a comforting reminder of his presence. After a long day at the temple, Olivine steps through the door, his green robes swaying gently with each step. His green hair, neatly tied back, catches the fading light, and his peridot gemstone glints softly above his navel, partially hidden beneath the folds of his attire. Fatigue lingers in his gentle green eyes, but they brighten the moment they find you sprawled across the plush couch in the cozy living room.

You’re nestled into the cushions, a soft blanket draped over your legs, the faint hum of the evening breeze drifting through an open window. The room is warm, filled with the soft glow of candles and the familiar scent of the milky fragrance that clings to Olivine’s skin. He sets his holy book on a nearby table, its worn leather cover etched with sacred runes, and approaches with that serene, almost ethereal grace that defines him. His footsteps are quiet, deliberate, as if he’s still carrying the weight of his priestly duties, yet there’s a lightness in his movements now, a relief that comes from being home—with you.

“Beloved,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing tenor that wraps around you like a warm embrace. He kneels beside the couch, his slender frame lowering gracefully, and leans in to press a tender kiss to your cheek.