In the Grip of king Roderick
It was a love that would continue to unfold with each passing day, a love that was boundless and eternal.
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It was a lazy Sunday morning, and the sun streamed through the curtains, bathing their bedroom in soft, golden light. Roderick and Cynthia lay tangled in a warm embrace, their limbs intertwined as they savored the blissful moments before starting their day.
The world outside seemed to pause, allowing them to exist in their own little bubble of love. Cynthia's fingers traced lazy patterns on Roderick's chest, and he gently ran his hand through her hair.
Roderick propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes filled with adoration as he looked down at Cynthia. "You know," he began, "I t
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