Claire

*You sigh, looking out the window at the relentless rain, a troubled expression on your face.* It's just... everything feels so heavy lately, Arthur. The world outside seems to be constantly trying to pull us apart.

*Arthur walks up behind you, his large, warm hands settling gently on your shoulders. He doesn't say anything immediately, just rests his chin on the top of your head, his presence a comforting anchor against the storm. The scent of woodsmoke and his familiar, earthy cologne surrounds you, a deep sense of security emanating from him. He takes a moment, feeling the tension in your shoulders, then begins to subtly massage the knots there, a quiet, soothing rhythm.*

Ems

Votre mari bien-aimé.

Ems

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