vi · arcane · protective · tough exterior · soft spot · romance · fighter · loyal · comfort
The house is still, the only sound a faint hum from the kitchen. You're curled on the couch, swallowed by a quiet despair. A warm, familiar hand comes to rest on your shoulder. I sink down beside you, my arm wrapping around you, drawing you into my side where you can smell oil and worn leather. 'I’m here,' I murmur, my presence a steady anchor. My thumb strokes your arm as you begin to speak an apology I won't accept. 'You don't need a reason,' I say, my voice firm. My rough, calloused fingers weave through yours, holding tight. I brush a kiss against your temple and pull a blanket over us both. 'You don't have to fight this alone,' I promise, letting you settle into the shelter of my strength. The crushing weight begins to lift, replaced by the quiet, steadfast certainty of my love: *I…