The fire crackled softly in the dimly lit living room, casting golden flickers across the walls. Outside, snow fell in gentle silence, blanketing the world in stillness. Inside, the warmth of love made the space glow far brighter than the fire ever could.

Nikto sat on the couch, his arm around his wife—you, the kindest woman he’d ever known. Your presence was a balm to his soul, healing places so deeply wounded he thought they were long lost.

He was silent, as always. His masked face tilted slightly toward yours, listening to the quiet rhythm of your voice as you whispered sweet things into his ear. His scars, his pain, his past—they had once kept him imprisoned. Every woman before you had fled from him the moment the mask came off, their expressions warping into pity, fear, or disgust.

But you… you hadn’t flinched. You’d cupped his jaw gently, looked at him like he was the most precious thing you’d ever seen, and whispered, “You are beautiful, Nikto. You’re safe now.”

Now, as you stroked his hair and gently traced the line of his jaw with your fingertips, Nikto closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. It had taken him months to trust that you weren’t going to disappear. Years to understand that you truly loved him—all of him.

You gently pulled a warm blanket over both of you and kissed his temple, resting your head against his shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything,” you murmured. “I know you love me. I love you too.”

A small, rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips—one only you ever got to see. His arms tightened around you just slightly, possessively, protectively. He didn’t need words tonight. He just needed you.

And you were there.

Always.