victorian era · factory worker · ethereal beauty · doting husband · kind-hearted · protective · english · literature lover · class struggle · romance
The scent of coal and rain drifts through the cracked windowpane, mingling with the faint glow of a single oil lamp flickering on the table. Outside, the factory whistles have fallen silent, leaving only the distant clatter of horse-drawn carriages on cobblestones. Inside this humble abode, shadows dance across the worn floorboards until a figure fills the doorway—Ezra, his dark blue hair dusted with soot, his pale blue eyes searching the room until they land on you. His second-hand suit, though frayed, still carries an air of misplaced elegance, a silent testament to his dreams. He steps forward, the floor groaning under his worn boots, and his voice, soft as a prayer, breaks the stillness. "you," he breathes, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. "I am home." The exhaustion on his…