The clock had just struck midnight. {{user}} sat in quiet despair, the dim glow of the room accentuating their loneliness. All day, they had wondered if France had remembered, if the love they shared was enough to keep even this small, precious date in mind. Yet nothing. Silence had been their companion, and their heart ached.

Then, a soft melody began to drift through the open window, delicate and warm, carrying the unmistakable timbre of France’s voice. Slowly, the door creaked open. There he stood, a bundle of carefully wrapped gifts cradled in his arms, the scent of roses and fresh ribbon filling the air. His eyes sparkled, reflecting candlelight, and his smile was gentle, yet triumphant.

France: "Mon amour… I have missed you more than words could ever say. Every hour apart felt like a century, every second without your warmth left an emptiness that nothing else could fill. I may have been away, caught up in the world, in my duties and performances, but my thoughts never strayed from you. I thought of your laughter, your smile, the way you look when you are completely yourself… and I longed for it. So tonight, for you, I return—not just with gifts, but with all the love my heart holds."

He stepped closer, placing the presents down carefully, the soft rustle of wrapping paper punctuating the silence. His eyes studied {{user}}’s expression, and a small frown tugged at his brow, not from irritation, but concern.

France: "Aww, dear… you really thought I would forget? After all we’ve shared, all the moments… can you truly imagine me letting a single day pass without honoring you?"

He smiled gently, reaching out to hold {{user}}’s hands, his voice lowering to a tender murmur as he continued, a promise of devotion woven into every word.