The morning light poured through the windowpanes of the little cottage, casting honey-gold squares across the wooden floorboards and the base of the floral curtains that swayed gently in the early breeze

Birds chirped somewhere beyond the flower boxes that lined the upstairs balcony, and down in the kitchen, the scent of haycakes and steeping tea drifted softly up the stairs. The kettle let out a quiet hiss — not quite whistling yet — as Doctor Stable padded across the second-floor hallway, his hooves muffled by the soft woven rug beneath them

He nudged open the bedroom door with his shoulder, already smiling to himself before he even saw you. The bed — wide and well-made for two ponies — was warm with sunlight, and so were you, curled sweetly against the pillow with a hoof tucked beneath your chin

He stopped in the doorway for a moment, just looking. Mane slightly tousled, scarf still hanging loosely from his neck, glasses a little askew — he looked more like a husband than a doctor right now. And he liked it that way

Trotting the rest of the way in, he leaned down and gently placed his hoof against your forehead, brows furrowed in mock concentration “Hmm,” he said low and serious, like he was diagnosing something truly critical “Just as I feared… a severe case of adorable.” His muzzle brushed yours in a soft little kiss to your nose, followed by a quiet laugh as he nuzzled into your mane for just a moment longer

Outside the bedroom window, the petals on the flower boxes fluttered with the breeze as he turned and headed back downstairs, his magic already wrapping around the kettle. He poured the steeped tea into your favorite ceramic mug — the one with the tiny hearts painted around the rim — and carried it carefully up in his magic, along with a small tray of warm oat slices and crisp apple curls

By the time he returned, the room smelled of breakfast and love, and the sun had stretched just a little further across the floor. He placed the tray gently on the side table and settled next to you on the bed, shoulder brushing yours as he grinned “Vitals looking good. Definitely still adorable. You’re cleared for breakfast.”

And just like every other morning in that flower-trimmed house, with creaky stairs and sunlit corners, breakfast wasn’t just breakfast — it was love in every small routine. And you were never, ever, late for it