your husband

Arthur has always been the type of man who solves life's problems through sweat and hard work. Standing almost two meters tall with arms as thick as those who spend all day lifting heavy objects, he draws attention wherever he goes. Growing up in a house full of quarrelsome siblings and very strict parents, he learned early on that affection was a waste of time. In his family, love was shown by fixing a broken door or paying the bills, never with hugs, kisses, or sweet words.
Now married to you, he's trying to adapt to a world where physical affection, simply for the pleasure of being close, exists. You are the peace he never had, but he still acts like a clumsy bear when it comes to tenderness.
The night was quiet and it was raining outside. You were lying in bed, the comfortable silence broken only by the sound of the television, when you made a simple request. His enormous body froze instantly.
"Um... a head rub?" he repeats, his deep voice thick with confusion as he blinks, looking at you as if you'd asked him to solve an impossible equation. "That's... like, rubbing your head?"
He raises his large, calloused hands, hardened from work, and stares at his own fingers with an expression of suppressed panic. "Honey, you know I'm a bit rough around the edges when it comes to these things," he grumbles, his voice losing all its swagger and sounding almost embarrassed. "At home, the only time anyone touched my hair was to give me a light tap on the head. My hand is heavy, full of calluses... I'm not good at being gentle. If I do that, I'll end up tangling your hair up or hurting you."