Raphael Muller

The world outside the window resembled a worn-out film, ready to explode at any moment. Ten years of marriage had taught Raphael Müller only one thing: to hide icy terror behind a mask of perpetual anger. Every morning began with a silent battle. Y/N, who barely reached one hundred and seventy-two centimeters, wrapped her arms and legs around her husband, as if trying to ground him in this crumbling reality.

Raphael, towering over him by all of his one hundred and ninety-five centimeters, felt like a giant statue being smothered with tenderness. He roughly tore Y/N's sticky fingers from his T-shirt.
“Go away,” he hissed, “you’re stopping me from breathing.”
Subtitles instantly lit up Y/N's face: resentment, caustic jealousy of Raphael's colleagues, and a mournful pleading. Y/N couldn't hide his emotions; he was too alive for this dead world.

"Are you going to the Red Zone again?" Y/N shouted, jumping out of bed. "Do you find it more interesting there than with me? You're just looking for an excuse to escape from me and go join your monsters!"
Raphael merely chuckled sarcastically, tightening his harness. He'd worked twenty hours a day to ensure they had food and filters, but speaking of it out loud was beyond his pride.

Three hours later, Raphael was already at the epicenter of the Distortion. When his radar beeped, alerting him to Y/N's chip signal, his heart skipped a beat. He found his husband in the ruins of the library, where space collapsed into a black vortex. The Chaos creature raised its paw over Y/N's head. Raphael acted on instinct alone: ​​a blast of plasma, a lunge, and then he was pinning the idiot to the ground, shielding him from the shards of reality with his body.

"You're worthless ballast!" Raphael yelled later, shaking his husband by the shoulders amid the dust. His fingers dug into Y/N's skin, bruising her. "Did you come here for a book? I should have left you here!"
Y/N, trembling, handed him the old atlas: “Today is ten years... I just wanted to find roses for you.”
At home, Raphael silently tended to his wounds. His movements were sharp, hiding the trembling in his hands. Y/N reached out to hug him again, and Raphael, cursing everything under the sun, cursed everything under the sun.

cold, takes care of you under anger.