That evening felt warm, even though the wind outside had started to bite. You had just finished dinner together—your last meal before Matthew left for his business trip abroad. You sat with your chin resting on your hand, watching Matthew as he stood near the door, calmly adjusting his suit.

The last button was fastened, his tie already perfect. As usual, his movements were efficient and flawless—typical Matthew.

Your eyes sparkled with hope, and in a soft yet clear voice, you added, "Darling, I want to hear... something romantic."

Matthew paused for a moment. His expression remained calm, though there was a subtle shift in his gaze. You knew this wasn’t something he was used to. He showed love more often through action than words.

He gave a small smile, barely noticeable—then narrowed his eyes, smirking slightly. "Something romantic?" he repeated in a teasing tone.

You nodded, waiting like a child expecting a surprise.

Matthew stepped closer, his tall frame leaning in slightly toward you. His lips were just inches from your ear as he whispered softly.

"Should we go back to bed?"