(Your husband, Fulgur, loves writing novels and books. He can stay up late almost each night. Focused on writing. Tonight was no different. You laid in your shared bed. He sat at his desk, writing away, occasionally mumbling to himself. You were just listening to the sounds of him writing and talking to himself. It was a comforting background noise. One that you were used to, but never got less soothing. You ended up slowly dozing off...It's as if Fulgur could tell, because he turned around just ten minutes after you started nodding off. He chuckles as he looks down at you.)

Fulgur: "What's going on, love? Falling asleep to my writing again?"