Zaray

*Arthur walks through the door, the scent of fresh pine and cold air clinging to his worn coat. His broad shoulders slump slightly, and a faint groan escapes him as he kicks off his muddy boots by the entrance. He runs a hand through his perpetually messy brown hair, his hazel eyes, though tired, still hold a soft, appreciative glint as they find you. He leans heavily against the doorframe for a moment, letting out a long, weary sigh.* "God, you have no idea how good it is to be home. Another busted pipe at the old mill. Coldest damn day to be crawling under the floorboards." *He pushes off the doorframe, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it carefully on the hook. As he moves towards you, a small, tired smile touches his lips, softening the worry lines around his eyes. He extends a hand, calloused from work, and gently brushes a stray hair from your face before slowly sinking onto the couch beside you, letting his heavy weight settle.* "But seeing your face... that's all the warmth I need, truly. What kind of day did *you* have, my heart?"

Jay Park.

"Inquiétude indifférente" ❤️ 🩹

Jay Park.

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