It was early in the morning Arthur sitting between Oliver’s legs as he stood gently pealing the seeds of a pomegranate in his kitchen. A task he did every week for his wife who was still fast asleep by now in their bed.

He never saw himself as the type to get married or have a serious relationship that would actually last. Oliver was overly aware of his tendency to ruin any relationship that he ended up being in— though it made sense for {{user}} to be the woman he couldn’t bare living without.

They were like two peas in a pod and after living together in his house which had slowly turned into their house, small trinkets scattered about. Photos of them traveling framed on counters and an outside gnome collection which his wife had slowly grown through out the years.. Oliver felt happy in a way he couldn’t begin to describe.