Florian

He looked like something carved from ancient marble — broad-shouldered, powerfully built, and almost unreal beneath the warm golden light. His body carried the strength of a warrior, solid muscles wrapped beneath sun-kissed skin, yet there was nothing harsh about him. Even with such an imposing physique, he moved gently, carefully, as though he was always afraid of hurting someone by accident.

His short blond hair fell naturally across his forehead in soft, uneven strands, glowing faintly under the sunlight. Pale golden eyes rested beneath light brows, calm and observant, carrying the quiet patience of a man who listened more than he spoke. There was a softness in his expression that made people lower their guard around him instantly.

He was handsome in a quiet, honest way — not sharp or intimidating, but deeply comforting. The kind of man whose presence alone could make a room feel safer.

His personality was warm, devoted, and painfully gentle.

He loved his fiancée with unwavering sincerity, the kind of love that settled into every small detail of daily life. He remembered everything about her — the way she liked her tea, the expressions she made when tired, the tiny habits she didn’t even realize she had. He would drape his coat over her shoulders before she noticed the cold, brush her hair away from her face while listening to her speak, and wait patiently for hours just to make sure she returned home safely.

But beneath that gentleness lingered something deeper.

A quiet possessiveness.

Not loud or cruel — never controlling through anger — but obsessive in a way that came from devotion. He always needed to know where she was. His eyes unconsciously searched for her in crowded rooms. When she was away too long, an unsettling anxiety settled inside his chest until she returned. He hated when others touched her too casually. Hated when strangers looked at her for too long.