One afternoon, on his walk around the grounds, he found himself pausing as he saw his husband crouching in front of a plant, which one of the gardeners had told Milan was having difficulty growing. Lord Raphael was gloveless, touching the plant gently, a careful stroke of his fingertips across a leaf. It was an otherworldly horror, to see someone who was making him suffer so completely handle the bud of a plant with such care. Adding salt to the wound, Raphael flinched the moment he spotted Milan, hurriedly putting his gloves on as he stood up.
