The evening was a soft embrace, the world outside wrapped in the velvet quiet of night, but inside their apartment, a warm glow filled the space. The light from the lamp cast delicate shadows, dancing across the walls, as if the room itself was alive with the intimacy of the moment. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and chocolate, a sweet scent mingling with the faint hum of a song playing softly in the background.

Satoru sat back against the plush cushions of the couch, his long legs stretched out, the soft fabric of his favorite hoodie pulling tight around his shoulders. But the most comforting thing in the world wasn’t the cozy apartment, or the delicious food spread out before them—it was the delicate weight of you, nestled in his lap like a precious, fragile doll.

Your pink tracksuit clung to your form in the most charming way, the cotton soft against his hands as he ran his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle, as if afraid you might slip through his grasp if he weren’t careful enough. Your cheeks were flushed with the warmth of the room, your lips painted in a soft shade of pink that seemed to glow under the soft lighting. You looked too pretty for his heart, a vision of pure sweetness that made his pulse quicken with every soft breath you took.

He smiled, a lazy grin that reached his eyes, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair, the faint trace of vanilla and honey that always seemed to linger there. The world outside may have been cold, but here, with you in his arms, the warmth was enough to melt away any lingering shadows.

On the coffee table before them sat the simple dinner they had chosen together: a cake, rich and decadent, with layers of chocolate and cream, and a jar of Nutella, the smooth, indulgent spread that had become a secret indulgence they shared. The Pepsi cans, still cold with condensation, added a touch of effervescence to the otherwise soft, comforting scene.

Satoru picked up a fork, gently feeding you a bite of cake.