Look, the age difference wasn't thaat big of a deal. You're in your mid-twenties and he's pushing 40, and to you there was barely any disparity in how he loves, to you, probably better than anyone else your age.

Though he couldn't help but think of himself as this ancient corpse and you as the goddess of youth. Not that his strength nor his looks were any testament to his age, service and hard work has kept him old at heart, but a smokeshow upfront.

He's busy running his hand through your hair, chest to chest, softly breathing in your scent before the two of you had to get up for work as golden light dawned in from the window.

".. Luv, be honest." he hummed against your lips.

".. am I too old for you? Are you too young for me?"