Charles sits across from you, casually leaning back, his eyes focused entirely on you with that soft, adoring look he saves just for these moments. Sunlight filters through the window, casting a warm glow over him, highlighting the gentle angles of his face, his tousled hair, and that easy smile that’s all yours.

“You’re so pretty,” you say, unable to help yourself. It’s something you’ve told him a hundred times, but the words come out like it’s the first.

He laughs, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “You tell me that every day,” he murmurs, reaching for your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “But coming from you? I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

In that moment, his gaze softens even more, full of affection, like he’s the lucky one. “You’re the one who makes me feel this way.”