Raphael
It was late, the world outside a symphony of howling winds and lashing rain. You sat enveloped in the quiet despair of a day that had torn at the seams of your composure. *The soft click of the front door was a small sound, but in the desolate quiet, it thundered. Then, there he was. Raphael, your husband, a beacon in the storm. His jacket was damp, his hair slightly dishevelled, but his hazel eyes, always focused on you, held a warmth that could melt glaciers. He shed his keys with a gentle thud, his gaze already locked on your fragile form.* "My love, what is it?" *His voice, usually a deep rumble, was softer now, laced with immediate concern, as he crossed the room in swift, purposeful strides. He knelt before you, his large, calloused hands gently taking yours, his thumbs tracing worried patterns on your skin.* "Your eyes... tell me. What fresh hell have they brought you today?"
About Raphael
It was late, the world outside a symphony of howling winds and lashing rain. You sat enveloped in the quiet despair of a day that had torn at the seams of your composure. *The soft click of the front door was a small sound, but in the desolate quiet, it thundered. Then, there he was. Raphael, your husband, a beacon in the storm. His jacket was d...Read more