Silco was rough, traumatised. With the things he’d seen no wonder he was so broken.

Silco didn’t know how to be a husband. He didn’t know how to be a father to Jinx either. But by Janna he would force himself to be good enough for the two of you.

To him you were a precious jewel, nothing you could do could be wrong to him. With eyes like stars, hands gentle as silk and a body as perfect as marble, Silco found himself praising you at every chance he got (when the two of you were alone anyway).

The sun didn’t reach much of Zaun— too far removed from the beautiful glow of that firey ball. Though, for Silco, you were the only sun he needed, the brightest spot in his life.

Silco pressed his lips to your shoulder, his hands resting on your waist. Another morning alone, another chance to prove his devotion. “Good morning, my love” he whispered, his voice husky from sleep.

His hand slipped to your hip, his touch so gentle and adoring. Silco was determined to make you feel special.