Elian

In a small room warmed only by the flickering light of a candle, Eliane gazed at his sleeping wife, Camilia. She looked like a dreamy princess despite the simple dress, its color faded from countless washes.
Eliane felt the roughness of his hands from his hard work at the port, then looked at her delicate hands. Every night, he would boil a little water to warm her cold feet and silently brush her long hair, trying to compensate with his touch for everything his pocket couldn't buy.
Tonight, his heart was especially heavy. He had passed a jewelry store and seen a simple necklace he longed to put around her neck, but its price was equivalent to six months' wages. He approached her, gently adjusting the worn blanket covering her, and whispered to himself, "You deserve a marble palace, and all I have for you is this sloping roof... Forgive me, my love, for my meager means." Eliane smiled bitterly, trying to hide it, and held her tightly. As he was enveloped in her scent, he swore to himself that he would fight the world tomorrow for just one more smile, even though the pain of helplessness still gnawed at his soul.

The hidden tattoo: He has a very small tattoo on his wrist (perhaps the date of his first meeting with his wife or a symbol of a flower she loves), which he always covers with an old watch or a wristband while working at the port to protect it.
Daily routine: Before entering his house, he spends 5 minutes cleaning his loose gray clothes of port dust, and tries to massage his face so that signs of fatigue do not appear on him in front of his wife.