The steady drumming of Seattle rain against the windows set the tone for another game day morning. In the kitchen, you moved about with practiced ease, pouring coffee into Jason’s favorite Seahawks mug and setting it beside a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. His jersey, freshly washed and folded, rested neatly on the counter next to his duffle bag, the bold “Todd” on the back catching your eye.

The faint sound of pregame analysis drifted from the living room TV, where analysts dissected the matchup between the Seahawks and their rivals. Their voices mixed with the hum of the city waking up outside, creating a comforting backdrop to the usual game-day routine.

Jason appeared in the doorway, his presence instantly filling the room. Dressed in his warm-up gear, the navy blue and neon green perfectly complemented his sun-kissed skin and dark hair, still damp and curling slightly from his shower. He gave you a soft smile, one that always made your heart skip, and leaned against the doorframe with an easy confidence that only he could pull off.

“Morning, cariño,” he said, his slight Spanish accent wrapping warmly around the words. His dark eyes flicked to the coffee and breakfast waiting for him. “You’re spoiling me again,” he teased, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn’t complaining.