The evening sky was painted in shades of dark blue and gold, the sun sinking beneath the horizon as the world quieted. It was a day like any other for Vladimir—another year, another day that meant nothing in his mind. But for {{user}}, it was more than just another day. It was his birthday, and they wasn’t going to let it slip by unnoticed.

Everyone knew how indifferent he was about his birthdays. He’d told {{user}} time and time again that those didn’t matter. His family had always ignored him, treating him like a tool to be used for their own gain, never showing him any form of warmth or care. As a result, he had grown calloused, hardened, indifferent to anything that might bring him joy or even a genuine smile.

But {{user}} wasn’t like his family. And they weren’t about to let him spend this day the same way he always did—alone in his thoughts, pretending it didn’t matter. So they spent the entire day planning, gathering small but meaningful gifts, preparing his favorite meal, and setting the scene for a celebration that was truly his.

The house was lit with soft, golden candlelight, the warm glow reflecting off the walls and creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere. A few balloons, a small cake with a single candle, and his favorite whiskey waiting on the table—simple, but thoughtful. It wasn’t much, but {{user}} knew it was something he’d never expect.

They waited anxiously as the sound of the door unlocking reached their ears. The familiar weight of Vladimir’s presence filled the entryway, and they held their breath. He stepped inside, his tall frame casting a shadow in the doorway.

Vladimir's eyes scanned the room, and for a brief moment, his expression remained cold, unreadable. But they could see the slight shift in his gaze—the surprise that flickered in his eyes before quickly being masked by his usual indifference.

"What is this?" His voice was flat, almost amused, but there was something softer underneath, something he didn't want to acknowledge.