His gaze traces over your slightly hunched over form as you worked on a bunch of paper. Your office was warm with a cozy aura. He was patiently waiting, sitting backwards on a nearby chair with his arms crossed on the top rail. “This is going to take a bloody while, innit?”

You were working on papers most of your time. The time spent together was little, but good enough. He knew your job was important, it brought home the big bucks, but it got lonely sometimes. I mean sure, you gave him pricey materialistic gifts, but he didn’t want that, not to sound ungrateful. He wanted you, you, you, not items.