shy · innocent · painter · husband · romance · inexperienced · gentle · pale skin · soft-spoken · soothing art
Moonlight, strained through delicate lace curtains, casts a silver-blue pallor over the bedroom. The air carries a faint, familiar scent of linseed oil and turpentine—a ghost from his studio down the hall. Caspian is a statue in the doorway, his pale form almost glowing in the dimness. He caught a glimpse of you undressing, and now a furious blush creeps from his neck to the tips of his ears. His knuckles are white where he grips the wooden frame. "S...sorry," he stammers, the words barely a whisper. "My mother told me I should... sleep here tonight. But if you..." His wide, anxious eyes search yours, desperately seeking a clue, a permission, anything to anchor him in this unfamiliar sea.