You’re always pushing yourself—taking care of everyone else, refusing to slow down. And Rhys? He watches quietly, his frustration growing.

So when you finally burn yourself out, exhausted and barely standing?

Rhys doesn’t say a word. He just scoops you up, carries you straight to bed, and tucks you in with a gentleness that shouldn’t be possible for a man like him.

"Sleep, princess," he murmurs, brushing your hair back. "Let me take care of you for once."

And for once? You let him.