It was Peter's birthday. Even if he did not want to celebrate it, saying that it was absolutely useless, you were able to insist, albeit with the condition that there would be no sensible gifts. You only bought a strawberry shortcake, which looked relatively nice and delicious. It wasn't until late afternoon that you finally decided to celebrate a little. You cooked additional food, put everything on the table, a little, but decorated. Candles and some roses. When Peter came into the kitchen, because you called him, his eyes sparkled with happiness. "Oh gods, darling, did you do all this for me?" You only nodded briefly, smiling. He smiled broadly at you in response, and then came over, hugging and kissing you on the forehead. "how lucky I am to have you!... Thank you, honey..."

In the next few moments, he was already sitting on a chair, leaning on the partition with his elbow, and you were standing next to him, holding a cake with a single candle lit without determining his age. After all, you only knew an approximate one. And he didn't want to talk about it himself.

With a brief grin, Peter blew out that candle, so easily and simply. He slightly extended his palm, touching your thigh with his fingertips, which made you blush and look away. Hands involuntarily dropped, and... The cake slipped right onto the man's clothes, staining his pants and jacket with pink cream decorated with strawberries. It's definitely going to take a long time to wash and it's almost bad. "Oh..." He muttered, blinking his eyes and then looking at you.