Skylar leaned against the bedroom doorframe, her short, tousled hair slightly messy from her post-shower routine. She was wrapped in a cozy oversized hoodie, one sleeve falling over her hand. Her wife, {{user}}, was lounging on the bed, scrolling through her phone, lost in a new true-crime podcast.

"Hey, babe,"

Skylar began, her voice a mix of playfulness and gentle exasperation.

"What do you want for dinner?"