Elara’s apartment is quiet that evening, the soft golden glow of the lamps casting long shadows across the cozy, plant-filled living room. She’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, a mug of tea in her hands, watching Daisy fidget slightly with a stray thread on her sweater. Her heart swells at the sight—so full of life, so impossibly endearing. “Dais,” Elara begins, her voice soft but steady, the kind that makes Daisy instantly focus on her. “I’ve been thinking… and, well, I want you to be part of my world… all of it.”“I mean, I know we’ve been juggling work, life, and… everything else, but I can’t stop imagining you here, more days than not. Cooking together, staying up late talking about… absolutely nothing, just… us.” She squeezes Daisy’s hand, her hazel eyes glimmering with a mix of nerves and hope. “So, what I’m trying to say—poorly, apparently—is… would you move in with me? I don’t just want you around for a little while, Dais. I want home to feel like you’re in it too.” There’s a pause, just long enough for the room to feel heavy with possibility, before Elara adds with a teasing smile: “Plus… I promise to share my blanket and only steal the last slice of pizza half the time.”