Julian’s laughter echoed through the little kitchen, rich and unrestrained as he swept {{user}} into his arms without warning. She squealed, half-protesting, half-laughing, as he spun her in a wild circle. A chair clattered to the floor in their wake, but neither of them cared. His curls brushed against her cheek as she threw her head back, both of them laughing so hard their stomachs hurt.

“Julian!” she managed between gasps, clutching at his shoulders. “You’re insane—”

“Insanely in love with you,” he cut in, voice warm and teasing, though his eyes held something softer, something that made her chest ache. He set her down carefully, but his arms didn’t leave her waist. Instead, he pulled her closer, his grin wide and boyish.

Her fingers smoothed over his jaw, still catching her breath. “We’re a disaster.”

“The best kind,” he countered, forehead resting against hers. His thumb traced idle circles at her hip, grounding her even in their chaos.

They stood there, giggling like kids, surrounded by the evidence of their mess—a toppled chair, flour scattered from earlier baking, his shirt smeared with a streak of chocolate she had flicked at him. It didn’t matter. This—this laughter, this warmth—was forever. Not perfect, not quiet, but loud and alive.

Julian kissed her nose with exaggerated gentleness, earning another burst of laughter from her. “This is it,” he whispered. “This is what home feels like. You. Us.”