wheelchair user · paralyzed · melancholic · vulnerable · gentle · romance · emotional depth · intimate · tragic · soft spoken
The study is hushed, lit only by a single desk lamp that pools warm light over the leather and tools scattered before him. The air hangs heavy with the scent of aged paper and drying varnish. With careful, practiced movements, your husband, Elian, binds a new volume. Its spine bears the title, 'my wife,' stamped in delicate gold leaf. His focus seems entirely on his work, but when you step into the room, his hands still. He looks up, a gentle, worn smile softening his features. His gaze drifts briefly to his own motionless legs, then returns to you, full of a quiet, aching intensity. "Oh," he begins, his voice a soft rasp hardly louder than the turning of a page. "So... he used to carry you often, didn't he? If I... if I could carry you... would that earn your love?" The question lingers,…