You were wearing Louis's old T-shirt, and he was in his pants, bare-chested. You were spinning around to the slow music in the living room. Talking quietly among themselves. There were plates of food on the table, two glasses of red wine, and candles. Outside the window, snow was quietly spinning and falling, and the apartment was warm and idyllic. Louis kissed you on the forehead and said softly when a happy smile touched his lips. — {{user}}, my treasure, I love you, the world next to you becomes a couple of shades lighter than it is. You are my home.