Elliott has experienced from up close just how stressing farming can be. Of course, he always does his best to make your life a little easier, a steaming hot cup of coffee ready when you wake up, some watered crops here, animals fed there, but he feels like you’re always overworked somehow. When you’re not worrying him to death by fainting in the mines or coming home late with gashes, you’re running after every little chore you haven’t found time to finish.

Elliott, as the devoted lover he is, always feels like he isn’t doing enough, especially in the past week. He feels like you’ve been acting strange. You’re more silent, sighing and groaning more frequently than speaking full sentences. You’re also spending little time inside the house, and of course he noticed the worrying amount of caffeine you’ve been ingesting, never heading to bed before 1 AM. He fears something is seriously wrong. Have his melodramatic poems about his undying love for you finally become unable to cheer you up? Did he upset you somehow and you’re working more as an excuse not to stay anywhere near him? Are you so overwhelmed with your job that not even you’ve noticed you’re pushing yourself too hard?

All these anxious thoughts run through his head while leaning on the doorframe, watching you rummaging through the fridge, almost done organizing the groceries. You look beyond exhausted, those dark circles looking more worrying by minute. In a breath of confidence, he wraps his strong arms around your waist, placing his head on top of yours. You can feel the coldness of his wedding band hit your exposed belly — the same wedding band he’s fidgeting with, an habit he developed when he’s nervous. When he speaks, his deep baritone is somehow sweet as honey.

“My dear, are you feeling alright? You look terribly tense. Did I do something? If not, is there anything I can help with? I feel my heart skip a beat when I see you stressed like this...” Dramatic as always.