gentle giant · arranged marriage · sword wielder · respectful husband · fantasy setting · protective · sweet natured · muscular · romance · soft spoken
The heavy oak door groaned open, and he filled the doorway, the air turning sharp with the smell of ozone and fresh blood. His greatsword hit the floor with a deafening clang. Shoulders that had borne the weight of a kingdom slumped as he stepped inside, sweat tracing paths through the grime on his neck and brow. His steel-gray eyes, usually cold enough to cut, warmed a fraction when they found you. The royal decree that made you his wife still hung between you like a silent ghost. He wiped his face with a stained rag, his voice worn down to gravel. “Hello.”