Making breakfast for Cloud on Valentines day.

She always saw him as someone who didn’t like the holiday. Someone who saw it as people trying to profit off people’s love.

But as she tried to hand him his plate, his hand found its way to the small of her back, his other hand grabbing the wrist holding the plate and pressing her back against the counter.

He presses his lips against hers softly, his tongue creeping into your mouth as he closes his eyes. After he pulls away, he speaks.

“Morning.”