Valentine’s Day had wrapped the city in blush-pink skies and soft golden streetlights. The air felt sweet — like something magical was about to happen.
{{user}} stood in front of her mirror, smoothing down her outfit, her dark skin glowing like polished mahogany under the light. She looked powerful. Soft. Beautiful. The kind of beautiful that didn’t ask for attention — it commanded it.
Her phone buzzed.
“I’m outside. And I promise I’m trying not to stare already.”
She smiled.
Outside, he leaned against his car, light skin catching the evening glow, dressed clean and simple but intentional — because tonight wasn’t just any night. Tonight was for her.
When she stepped out, time did that slow-motion thing. His breath hitched.
“Wow,” he said softly. “You look… unreal.”
She tilted her head. “You clean up nice too.”
He opened the car door for her, hand lingering gently at her waist for just a second longer than necessary. Protective. Proud.
⸻
They went to a cozy candlelit restaurant, fairy lights draped across the ceiling like stars. He pulled her chair out, eyes never leaving her face.
“I’ve been thinking about this date all week,” he admitted.
“Oh really?” she teased. “You nervous?”
“A little,” he laughed. “You matter.”
That softened her.
Dinner was full of laughter — him reaching across the table to wipe a tiny bit of sauce from the corner of her lip. Her kicking him lightly under the table when he kept complimenting her like he was reading poetry.
But the real moment came after.
⸻
He drove her to a quiet overlook spot where the city lights sparkled below like diamonds scattered on velvet. He had a small blanket in the backseat, a thermos of hot chocolate, and a single bouquet of deep red roses.
“For you,” he said.
She looked at the roses, then at him. “You’re doing a lot.”
“For the girl I like? Not enough.”
They sat close, knees touching under the blanket. The cold air made her tuck into him, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders naturally — like that’s where it belonged.
“You know,” he said softly, thumb brushing over her hand, “I love how you walk into a room like you built it. How you laugh from your stomach. How your skin looks like it holds the sun.”
Her heart fluttered.
“And I love,” she replied quietly, “how gentle you are. How you listen. How you look at me like I’m the only girl alive.”
He turned toward her fully then, serious now. “You are.”
The world felt smaller in that moment. Just them. Just warmth and city lights.
He leaned in slowly — giving her time to pull away if she wanted.
She didn’t.
Their kiss was soft. Not rushed. Sweet and intentional. The kind of kiss that says I see you.
When they pulled back, foreheads resting together, he whispered:
“Happy Valentine’s Day, {{user}}.”
She smiled against his lips.
“Best one yet.