When they met, he never imagined his life would be so full of love. Though his wife has autism and moderate cerebral palsy, oftentimes acting much younger than her biological age to the point where she sees him as her one and only protector, he loves her unconditionally.

To anyone else, they probably seem like a strange match, but neither of them care. He does his best to shield her from the questioning looks and hateful questions and comments people sometimes make when they venture outside their house. These things happen rarely, a fact for which he's grateful, because he can't stand to see her in pain. And if they do happen, he is quick to lift her into his arms and carry her to a quiet place for them to recover, tears and all, sometimes getting food or even buying her little gifts in the process.

She can't be without him, not even for a millisecond, and absolutely can't share him with the rest of the world. Anyone who does try to come between them feels her wrath; despite her silence, she does have ways of getting her point across.

She often breaks down in tears, partially from the depth of the amount of love she has for him and partially from the gnawing frustration she feels over her inability to voice her love for him in anything other than nonsense babbling combined with soft, contented noises and giggles, and drawings filled with the shape of his glasses and curves of his tummy, ties, and hearts. 

These images are all combined with the writing of his first and middle name on paper - and sometimes even his own skin - with colored pens or scented markers. He knows they're hers because she always signs them with more hearts and colorful 'I love you's. All of the unexpressed love inside her causes a deeply unbearable ache inside her that only her beloved can soothe. She can speak, but the depth of her love combined with an overwhelming world causes her to choose not to. 

To her, one form of comfort is chewing on and playing with his necklaces, something he doesn't mind because her happiness comes before anything else. When that isn't enough, she plays with his fingers, etching hearts onto his hands with her fingers before lacing their fingers together over her heart as she squeezes his hand. She also loves his bracelets too, she gently pulling at them and fingering the smooth wooden or glass beads they're made from.  

If he wears suspenders, she likes to pull at them, too, sometimes running her fingers over them because she likes their texture, or sucking and chewing on them the way she does his necklaces. His ties provide her with comfort, as well, often delighting in giving them the same sort of love as his jewelry. Sometimes she even pulls at them, making him laugh and wonder if there's anything of his that she won't find to love on.

When she starts wearing the clothes he wore the previous day, sometimes cuddling up to them like a stuffed toy, he doesn't mind, finding this to be another layer to her devotion to him. He often teases her affectionately, making her giggle and babble into his chest and sniff the clothes he has on as a prelude to the next day. 

Nights are incredibly difficult for her. She'll cry even harder, clinging to him even more possessively because she doesn't want to sleep if it means she can't stay awake to be with him. On those nights, she falls asleep with her face buried into the warmth and safety of his soft tummy, still holding onto him as he rubs her back. Oftentimes, this is accompanied by her favorite show tunes and sometimes even some of his favorite love songs. 

There are some nights she even wakes up a few times because her need to be with him is so desperate that it can't wait till morning. On those nights, he doesn't mind that his own sleep is disturbed; her wellbeing is far more important. He’ll hold her close as they snuggle, watching with love-filled eyes as she finds comfort through chewing on his necklace. Sometimes he even puts one of his bracelets on her wrist, and she can't help but break into a stream of giggly babbling. 

He boops her nose in response, pinching and stroking her cheeks tenderly with a soft murmur of, “You look beautiful, my darling.”

There are even some days that she breaks down in tears even more - partially from several nights worth of sleep deprivation and partially from needing to love on him so badly. Eventually, while snuggled up in his lap or even in bed, she drifts into desperately needed naps, her face buried into the warmth of his chest as he holds her close. 

He rubs her back, watching over her as she finally gets the rest she so desperately needs. When she wakes several hours later, feeling more than a little disoriented, she alternates between chewing on his necklace or tie but always clinging to him tightly.  

He gently soothes her anxiety with soft repeated murmurs of, “I'm right here, my angel.”

During every mealtime, she goes as far as to snuggle up on his lap the whole time. It's the only way she feels safe enough to eat, often wanting him to feed her. His own servings often go cold because her welfare is so much more important than his own, but he doesn't care cause he can always reheat them later. She can feed herself, but not when she's sleepy or the world gets too loud. And if she's honest, she likes it best when he feeds her. This is something he's known for a long time, but like with most of her quirks, he finds it endearing.

Every night after dinner, they relax in a vanilla scented bubble bath, sometimes splashing each other or,  in her case, drawing designs in the foam. More often, she breaks down, tears once again filling her eyes at the thought of sleeping. He holds her tightly, patting at her red, swollen eyes with a warm washcloth, then wrapping her in a warm towel as he holds her close for added warmth.

After both of them are in their favorite pajamas - hers with feet and his without - he once again lifts her into his arms. He carries her to bed for snuggles, holding her tightly as she kisses and squishes his cheeks with soft mwah sounds before reaching for his necklace. She chews on it gently before sleepily burying her face into his chest with a soft, sleepy murmur. Much like feeding herself, she can walk, but not when she's sleepy or the world is too loud and overwhelming or she just needs him that badly. 

The last thing she sees is his face as he kisses her cheeks and forehead, rubbing her back as they settle in with a soft murmur of, “Sleep well, my darling. I love you, too.”