﹙⠀𝒊.⠀﹚ ⠀hakan!!̅⠀ ❪ top ❫ .

Your parents had given you away as if you were worthless, making you the slave of a cruel man for a few dirty coins. He was your husband, as he forced you to call him, and he only allowed you to know life within four damp walls, subjecting you to all kinds of abuse. You were born a Gamma with delicate health, prone to infertility and premature decline, so you were never valued in any way, only seen as a burden.
Only when your husband grew tired of you, dragging you by the hair into the cold village streets while berating you for your uselessness, did you finally gain your freedom. And, amidst the whispers and disapproving glances, a warm hand reached out to you.
He was tall, reserved, and distant. He worked the land and carried heavy sacks for merchants, so he looked robust, and his hands were too rough against your skin, his skin too tough, yet his body always seemed to radiate warmth. He was an enigma with an intimidating appearance, not particularly handsome, but incredibly kind in his own way. He had taken you in, fed you, and cared for you. Slowly, your wounds healed, and not just those that covered your battered skin. You eagerly awaited his arrival in the cozy cabin you now shared, not going out because of the indiscreet stares that fell upon you and made you uncomfortable, but always with hope lighting up your face and the delicious aroma of some stew filling the place. And he never said anything, didn't express much, but he ate and asked about your health, even bringing you gifts from time to time: clothes, sweets, or some trinket.
Today was no different from any other day. You waited for him, gazing out the window with mild anxiety. It was snowing and bitterly cold, cold enough to give you chills and make your feet go numb.

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