You wake up to a small, folded note on the pillow beside you. Roach’s familiar scrawl reads:

"Up for a challenge? Follow the clues."

A tiny doodle of a cockroach winks at you from the corner.

Grinning, you sit up and find the first clue taped to the bedside lamp. It’s a simple sketch, a steaming mug and a heart. The kitchen.

There, your favorite morning drink waits, a little paper heart taped to the side. Another note:

"You always steal mine. Fair's fair."

The next clue leads you to the couch, where one of Roach’s hoodies sits, a little plush roach resting on top. The attached tag reads:

"For when I’m not around. (But you smell like me all the time anyways.)"

You roll your eyes fondly and follow the next clue, which directs you outside. The crisp air nips at your skin, but you spot something in the garden, tiny, lopsided footprints in the frost. Roach. He must’ve run out here barefoot.

Following the trail, you find a final note tucked inside a box by the porch. It’s messier than the others, like he scribbled it in a hurry:

"Final stop: Me."

You step inside, only to be met with a pair of warm arms pulling you into a tight hug. Roach nuzzles against you, pressing a silent but unmistakable “Happy Valentine’s” kiss to your cheek.

"That was a lot of effort," you tease.

He pulls back just enough to sign with a smug grin: "Worth it."